


Kingdom Come

by Arvedui



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Death, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Politics, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-04-29 18:53:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 181,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14479005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arvedui/pseuds/Arvedui
Summary: “Beg.” Elissa said again, jaw clenched. Starfang’s tip came to rest underneath Howe’s chin, forcing the old man to look up at Elissa.“Do you feel like a Hero yet? ” The man hissed out, turning his head to spit up a mouthful of blood.The hot red anger flashed before Elissa’s eyes. Growling loudly, sounding much like one of the werewolves that had been hunting the Elves, Elissa brought her left fist to slam across Howe’s face.There was something so primal and enjoyable feeling Howe’s skin break against her studded leather glove. Dropping the grip on Starfang, the sword clattered to the ground while her right hand connected with the other side of Howe’s face.--AU. Former lovers, Anora Mac Tir and Elissa Cousland are reunited during the Landsmeet. Torn between love and duty, both have to pick between what is right or what is easy for themselves and Ferelden. A game of politics and schemes to ensure Ferelden’s survival and the end of the Blight. Dragon Age Origins Endgame and beyond.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This all started because I thought there wasn't enough FemaleCousland/Anora works. It started as a one-off a year and a half ago which now has turned into a 200k word story. This should finish out to be somewhere around 20 Chapters, depending how much I still decide to edit down. Currently, as I'm posting this, I'm writing the Battle of Denerim chapters. 
> 
> With that said, this might not be for everyone. It is AU for a reason and anything that has to do with the Mac Tirs always leave people divided. While attempting to keep true to Bioware's fantasy feeling to everything, there's a heavy dose of realism. Things are heavily political.
> 
> The Cousland story always interested me and I wanted to explore it. There are a number of flashbacks to her life before as a young girl and teenager to explore the difference between the Warden and the woman she was before. 
> 
> There will be choices made that people might not agree with and I ask you to keep any rage in check to at least it's polite. Characters act slightly differently in some aspects, others not much so. 
> 
> There will be a few other of the different possible origins that pop up in the story as it moves along. I ask you keep an open mind to everything. The first ten Chapters move somewhat slowly as it leads up to the Landsmeet, the second half is things get really interesting. 
> 
> I kept the tags down because I really dislike seeing a wall of tags. I think I hit the most serious ones needed. 
> 
> No Beta, so all mistakes are mine. Please enjoy.

The night air was cool along the road. Having left South Reach behind them some days ago, only small villages and hamlets dotted the Drakon River and highway. The strain of the Blight and Civil War were apparent in the south. Battlefields with piles of rotting corpses and burnt out villages littered the long way to Denerim.

The land itself appeared to be scarred permanently with each step the Blight took deeper into Ferelden. 

South Reach stood as the beacon in the darkness, the shield that held back the might of the Blight while the rest of the Kingdom fought among each other. 

To trade one evil for another. 

Elissa was not used to having so many others with her company. The road was easy to leave behind with a small collection, to evade both Gwaren troops and darkspawn hunting packs that roamed deep into Ferelden heartland. 

The Warden’s green eyes were drawn to the banners that blew in the light breeze. The white tower sitting upon a hill of red. She supposed that it was irony that House Gurrien now stood as her main ally. 

Elissa quiet moment was broken when the Arl himself graced her with his presence. Going to stand next to her, dressed in a thick tunic and breeches. Fur lined cloak hanging from his shoulders. For one that was supposedly healed by Andraste’s ashes, he still carried himself with the same ego she remembered him for. 

“I am glad to have South Reach behind us. Arl Bryland always made for a poor dinner guest.” Eamon remarked with an attempt of humor, gloved hands folding in front of him. 

Elissa moved her eyes from the quiet country landscape and forced a smile at him, “At least his daughter was mannered this time.”

Eamon snorted, nodding his head in agreement, “Too true, Elissa.”

The pair fell silent. She could smell it in the air, he was here for a reason. Though the purpose was unknown to her until it appeared with Eamon looking over his shoulder to where the members of Elissa’s company were singing along a fire. 

The Arl’s eyes were drawn to Alistair, shaking his head and mumbling so Elissa could hear him, “I suppose not everything is carried by blood.”

Elissa followed Eamon’s eyes to her fellow Warden, shrugging her shoulders, “He’s not a noble. Wasn’t raised to be, if you recall.”

Eamon’s eyes snapped to Elissa, studying the side of her face carefully, “I tried with him. But Maric did not wish for Alistair to be taught any of the true ways.”

_ ‘True ways’ _ . The words nearly forced a snort from Elissa. She had forgotten how the Ferelden Court behaved. It was a good lesson to remind herself of quickly if she was to win in the Landsmeet. 

“Alistair is a good man.” Elissa moved her head back to the quiet night sky, watching a few of the Redcliffe patrolling soldiers. 

“That he is. He could be made into a fine King.” 

Arl Eamon and House Cousland were never allies. Elissa was public with her friendship and support for the disliked Queen Anora and Eamon was King Cailian’s trusted Chancellor. Eamon hunted for any truth in the rumors that hung over Elissa’s friendship with Anora. What lingered in the Queen’s bedchambers. 

But that Elissa felt like a lifetime ago. A girl who was barely a woman playing the Court games. Acting as if she was a master of it all.

“He doesn’t want to be King.” Elissa said. 

“He doesn’t want a great many things but it is his duty as the last Theirin to carry on the legacy. I did not fight in the rebellion to see the Theirin line end so swiftly.”

“You can’t force someone to be a King, Eamon.” Her eyes flicked back to Eamon, holding his stare. 

Eamon smiled at her, moving a hand up to pat her on her shoulder, “But that is why we have you, Elissa. The last Cousland. I’m in your debt for what you did for my Family. You could rule alongside Alistair.”

The Cousland fell quiet, turning her eyes back to the road. Below her, her hand reached for Starfang’s hilt, resting it there to have something to hold onto.

“Highever is yours, Elissa. Alistair is a Theirin, but still a unlegitmaiczed bastard. If you, as the last of the Couslands married him, then any questions about his legitimacy would be put to an end.  The Cousland blood will live forever more in that of the Theirin House.”

“Think upon it, Elissa. I know you would make a fine Queen and make your parents proud.” Eamon finished in a low whisper, patting her back before stepping back into the camp. 

Elissa looked up at the night. The skies were cloudless, allowing the bright white stars to shine brightly down on them. She could fool herself for a moment that she was back in Highever, the Blight something from a history book. 

A far off tale with faceless names that refused to turn back in spite of the darkness that stood before them. 

Elissa ran a hand through her auburn hair, using a piece of leather to tie back the curls into a tight ponytail. She turned her back to the countryside and back into her camp where her things were. 

The camp was larger than what she was used to. With some 50 Redcliffe levies, proud knights and a team of servants, it stood as a small travelling village. It made the edges of Elissa’s nerves stick up, the last shriek attack went poorly for them. 

Elissa left the others to their song and drink, preferring to be alone tonight. Not with where the road laid before them and what laid at the end. 

Finding a strong tall oak, Elissa laid out a blanket to sit on. Removing Starfang from her hip, she sat down. Back pressed up against the wood with the blade laying across her lap, she tucked her fur lined cloak closer to her. Stained with mud and dried blood from the year on the road. 

She moved a hand to flick the hood up, allowing the warmth to form a thinly guarded layer around her ears and potions of her face. 

She could see Alistair and Leliana pressed against each other talking in low voices like lovers do. Zevran, Wynne and Duran sat around a fire and seemingly exchanging more stories. Sten and Oghren debating if a battle axe or a two handed sword required more strength.

Morrigan was nowhere to be seen, knowing the witch she was off gathering herbs in the surrounding countryside. Shale stared on at the night sky stiff as she ever was. 

A Crown,  _ the _ Crown. That is what Eamon offered her. She had little doubt that Alistair would be nothing but a figurehead for Eamon. To be popped up. To wave his hand and smile at the commonfolk while Eamon ruled. 

Her attention drifted away from the camp and the Theirin bastard. Off into the night, where the road lead on to Denerim. 

It wasn’t a Crown she wanted. To rule over all of Ferelden as Queen. Proud and beautiful, the fairest of them all. 

She wanted to ride back to Highever, to walk the halls of Castle Cousland and not be haunted by what happened there. To see her Father’s smiling face in his study, to smell the flowers of her Mother’s garden. To see Fergus teaching Oren how to fight in the sparring ring. 

And most importantly, she wanted to see Rendon Howe pay for what he did. 

It came slowly, leaking from the edges of her heart and slipping into her bloodstream. Anger, wraith, the easiest of all sins. It wrapped a hard hand around her heart, stroked the fire that begun to spark in her stomach. 

Not even the peaceful quiet night was enough to hold back Elissa’s clenched jaw, how her hands gripped the hilt of Starfang. 

She knew not the strength of the Grey Warden blood. She knew only the strength of the Couslands. It was in that strength she found solace and purpose. 

With the treaties done behind them and on the road to Denerim, the nightmares felt new. The pain felt raw, like an old wound that refused to heal properly. Opening, oozing with blood and puss. No matter what you tried to do, it wouldn’t heal. 

Elissa’s eyes closed. She could remember every smell. The smoke in the air, the scent of dead rising. The sights and sounds of the fighting, so many slaughtered in their beds by those they the regreaded with fellowship. 

The Warden moved the blade off her lap and leaned it against the side of the tree. She bent her knees and brought them close to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. 

Though she underwent the ritual, she was still Lady Elissa Cousland. The blood that flowed through her veins were the same that lived in Highever since the early ages. She was tied to the land as the land was to her. 

Even in this late hour, she wished nothing more to ride forth to Highever. Find where Ser Gilmore and choice few Houses fought in rebellion. To cut down Thomas Howe who ruled in his Father stead. To retake Highever and butcher any and all that helped the Howes slaughter her Family. To see that laurel flap from Highever’s white walls once more. 

Her purposes, her duties were split. Between Highever and the Order. 

_ ‘A Cousland do what they must’  _

Her Father’s words came back to her, whispering in the light wind, tickling across her unprotected cheeks. 

Elissa tucked her chin onto the tops of her knees, eyes staring back out over the camp. Watching the shadows of the fire dance across the sides of the tents. Listening to the whispering voices, hoping in vain that the answer would lay there, hidden in the wind. 

Rendon Howe would not escape her reach. She knew in her hearts of hearts her purpose laid in Denerim. To end this Blight. It did nothing to stop the lingering pain that gripped her, the anger that beat in her stomach, wanting to be freed, to crush bone underneath her hands. 

She was a Cousland. Family and Ferelden were their duties. 

It was that anger she would finally slip when she faced Rendon, Loghain, and whoever else tried to keep her from having what her honor demanded. She had gone too far to be turned back now. 

There was a does of fear and a handful of hope that went with Denerim. Eamon offered her a Queendom but Elissa once had one. 

The mere whisper of Anora’s name brought a painful ping to Elissa’s heart. As if a hand had reached into her chest and squeezed her heart, sending the vibrations rolling through her stomach. Green eyes peeked out from underneath her hood, catching how  _ prefect _ Leliana and Alistair looked with each other. How they had each other even with the world falling to pieces around them. 

A sigh escaped from Elissa’s lips. She tore her eyes away from Alistair and Leliana, trying to look anywhere that wasn’t the pair. Alistair was happy, he had found light. Even in the darkness of the Deep Roads, they had each other. 

All Elissa had was a headful of memories. Belonging to a woman from a different lifetime. Where summer never ended, where winters were passing cold snaps so she could wear a fur trimmed cloak and thick dress. 

She tugged the cloak tighter around her, wishing she was anywhere else. That she was in Denerim during a different time, wrapped instead in the blankets of Queen Anora’s bed. Having strands of blonde hair shine like pure sunshine in the early morning sun. 

2 years had gone since the last Elissa saw Anora but she could still remember the sweet smell of the Queen’s Antivian perfume. How her lips tasted like chocolate and vanilla candy imported from Rivain.  Her warm flushed body pressed to hers, warm moans spilling into her ear. 

Elissa twisted in the dirt, turning away from the camp and tucking her body into a ball, hiding underneath the burrow of her cloak. 

She wanted to pretend for awhile longer. Pretend that she was back underneath her covers in Highever or in Denerim. Anora sleeping next to hers. The largest worry was being found together. 

Her mind should be on the Landsmeet. On how Eamon watched her so closely. One of the few from the nobility that tried so hard to prove that Anora was ill fit to be Queen. 

Not with how Eamon steered and phased all of this wrong doing onto Anora’s head. How else was Loghain Mac Tir able to flee the field at Ostagar? How else was he able to name himself Lord Regent and caused a civil war? It all had to go back to the Queen’s seal. 

Elissa knew better. Elissa  _ knew _ Anora better than any soul alive. She knew the Queen behind the Crown, the woman behind the throne, the heart locked away underneath layers of duty and political manoeuvring. 

She knew what type of person Anora was behind the mask of Queendom but she also knew what type of person she could be if she felt backed into a corner and without allies. 

Elissa rubbed her cheek along the thick material of her cloak, She wished that Teagan had come with them. The Bann was one of the few that had some control over Eamon, to speak reason into him. Even as the leader of the Bann’s Alliance that fought against Loghain, he believed there was more at play. 

That Loghain’s madness knew no end. That perhaps even his love for Anora was trumped for his love of Ferelden. 

_ ‘I loved Maric but I love Ferelden more.’ _ The dry pitch of Loghain’s voice came to her. The words coming back from their short conversation at Ostagar. Where he had gave her a stiff nod and said Bryce fought with honor during the Rebellion. 

The warmth from the cloak was luring her thoughts away. Away from the worry and anger that clouded her. To the smell of vanilla, the feel of Anora’s lips ghosting along her shoulders, fingers tracing down her spine. 

Instead of clearing her head and heading to her tent to ease herself into sleep, Elissa stayed in her spot. Her head fixed solely on Anora.

* * *

_ Holding the wooden sword in a two handed grip, sweat dripped from Elissa’s forehead. The sun was baking down onto the sparring pit, making the ground feel even hotter than it actually was. Her tan tunic was stained with dirt and sweat  from the long hours of sparring that morning.  _

_ Auburn hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail to keep the hair out of her face. Green eyes were narrowed at the boy from across her. Tall and built tall, Gilmore mimicked Elissa’s own stance, the two circling around each other in the ring.  _

_ They had been going at each other for hours at this point, starting a time before dawn it was now nearly noon. There were a few lingering knights, guards and soldiers talking quietly along themselves while watching the spar.  _

_ The doors to the barracks opened and closed with the castle guard cycling through their guard shifts.  _

_ On the opposite end of the sparring ring, sitting on a stone bench was the future Queen of the entire Kingdom itself. Blonde hair done in an elegant bun that had taken nearly an hour to be completed that morning. Crystal blue eyes were fixed on Elissa, she moved her elbow to rest on the top of her knee and placed her chin into the palm of her hand.  _

_ There was a few other ladies-in-waiting and her own guards watching on either side of her, reminding Anora that she couldn’t appear to be too interested at the sight in front of her. But it was hard to resist the sight of Elissa in all her glory.  _

_ It was already hard enough for the two 18 year olds to keep their relationship a secret from everyone else. Watching that thin tunic stick to Elissa’s body only brought forth memories of their passionate nights.  _

_ Elissa was a fury of attacks, the blade swinging at near each which direction, Gilmore only being able to barely block them to keep himself from getting hit. Being the child of Bryce Cousland, famous battle commander of the rebellion and Eleanor Cousland who was the famous seawolf only meant that both their children were trained how to carry themselves.  _

_ And somethings were just carried by blood.  _

_ Gilmore was finally taken down with a powerful blow to the side of his neck, causing the teenager to start coughing and stumbled away, “Yield! I yield.” _

_ Elissa’s trademark half grin graced her features, resting the sword on her shoulder, “6-4. I win the set.” _

_ Gilmore was rubbing the ugly red mark that had formed on his neck, still coughing. He waved Elissa off, “Bugger off, Elissa.” _

_ Elissa placed the training weapon back onto it’s rack and made a beeline for over where Anora sat. The blonde haired girl couldn’t hold back the smile that came to her features, “Are you done abusing Roland yet?” _

_ “You know he hates it when we call him that.” Elissa took her seat next to Anora. Elissa could hear one of the ladies-in-waiting behind them leaning over to whisper into the other’s ear. Causing both of them to giggle about whatever was said.  _

_ Elissa noticed Anora’s jaw clenching, her back becoming straight and that smile dropping from her lips. Anora was stopped short from turning around and making a comment when Elissa spoke up swiftly, “Can you help me pick a dress for tonight? You know I can never decide what to wear.” _

_ Anora’s blue eyes rested on Elissa’s face. A silent conversation passing in between them. Elissa gave a sigh of relief when she saw that smile come back to Anora’s face, “Your Mother mentioned it to me this morning. King Maric and Prince Cailan should be arriving anytime today.”  _

_ Elissa nodded and didn’t even think twice to grab Anora’s hand, starting off towards her room.  _

_ With the door locked and barred behind them, Anora sighed loudly while Elissa moved towards her dressers, “I hate them. I honestly hate them.” _

_ “Then why do you keep on allowing them to follow you around, Anora?” Elissa threw the blonde a look over her shoulder as she leaned down unlace her boots.  _

_ Anora paced back and forth now, “Because it’s expected of me, Ellie. From the moment my Father made that stupid marriage pact with Maric. I’m to be Queen, I can deal with a few gossiping girls.” _

_ Elissa threw her boots off into a corner, not wishing to spark the same argument again about how Elissa felt about the marriage to Cailan. Or Cailan just as a human being.  _

_ “You could at least not have them follow you while whispering behind your back. Quite literally. I’ll give them a talking.” _

_ “Ellie, there’s no need for that. They’re just poking like they always do. With my wedding being announced tonight by the King, everyone is whispering about the future dread Ice Queen.” Anora came closer to where Elissa was, wanting to wrap her arms around her lover.  _

_ Throwing the sweat stained shirt to the side, Elissa grabbed a fresh one and twisted around to face Anora fully. Whatever the blonde was going to say seemed to die on her lips at the sight of a topless Elissa.  _

_ It was obvious that Elissa spent much of her free time outdoors and learning how to fight. Her body toned and tanned though still obviously feminine. Her breasts on the smaller side but high and perkier. The long lines of Elissa’s ab muscles seemed to be the center point of the future Queen’s attention. And how they went down to hide underneath the material of Elissa’s pants.  _

_ Silence filled the room, as the loud steps Anora took to come into Elissa’s personal space echoed. That half grin was still on Elissa’s face as she felt Anora’s index finger trace along Elissa’s abs. Her body was still red and tighter than usual from the hours of training.  _

_ “And is this one of those things expected of you?” Elissa’s voice slipped a bit lower, her right arm going to wrap around Anora’s waist, still allowing Anora’s finger to do it’s tracing.  _

_ “Shut up, Ellle.” Anora growled. placing her palm down on the toned stomach and leaned up to press their lips together into a heated embrace. While Elissa’s arm wrapped tight around her waist and walked Anora backwards towards the bed.  _

_ They did have hours afterall until Maric arrived. _

* * *

 

“I expected it to be bigger.” Duran mused out loud, glancing in between Zevran and Elissa.

Wynne snorted from her spot next to Elissa, resting her staff into the ground, eyes too on the sight in front of them, “The City of Andraste.” 

Elissa was quiet. Hand over hand resting on the hilt of Starfang. Her eyes were casted down on the gates and walls of the city. The sun shined high in the sky, the blue water of the sea floating gently in the horizon. 

It was if no war waged on in the south. That a Blight sacked whatever they could get their hands on. That the Bannorn rode in rebellion and fought Gwaren from over the River Drakon. 

Her eyes were drawn over the towering Fort Drakon, the stone tower standing proudly. She searched for the Palace, barely seen over the thick and high walls of the city. Anora, for good or ill, waited there. 

“Said that often in your good years, Wynne?” Zevran wiggled his eyebrow over towards the older mage. 

They stood on a hill not far from where the North and West roads met, leading upon the short single road that lead to the gates of Denerim. She had left the rest of the Company and the Redcliffe party behind, taking her usual team with her to cross the rest of the distance. 

She was growing restless, tired, ready to end this. It was obvious on her face, apparent in her shoulders. She had spent the better part of the journey to Denerim with her head fixed on Anora. Making the hole in her heart bleed like a deep wound. 

Elissa’s eyes watched the roads. There were few patrolling parties of soldiers and mounted knights. Bands of pilgrims making their way to the Chapel of Andraste deep in the city. Traders, travellers and refugees all the same making their way to the capitol. 

With the business of the Landsmeet, she knew it meant that Denerim’s population would surge. Traders, mercenaries, Chantry officials, everything and anything coming. 

“I spent half of my life here.” Elissa commented out loud. Her stare still on the city.

It appeared her worry in wishing to avoid Denerim was for nothing. The patrols of soldiers weren’t questioning the bands of travellers. She could reason that was due to the Landsmeet and fragile white peace. 

The party was able to pass through the gates without much trouble, besides a few pasing looks from Zevran and Duran sharing the same horse. 

Elissa paused in the main courtyard after the gates, to the marble statue of Andraste that stood there. Countless pilgrims worshiped at the base of the statue, placing small notes or candles there hoping that Andraste or the Maker would hear their pleads,

Her eyes traced up the statue. Andraste’s hands rested on the hilt of the large sword, lion’s mane flowing freely. The circlet craved in the marble shined in the sunlight. She could remember the theory that Andraste’s ashes were buried in the base of this statue. Making it one of the most supposed holy sites in all of Chantric. 

A cloud moved overhead, the rays of sun that shine down on the marble disappeared. Slowly darkening the whole of Andraste’s marble figure. 

“Repent! Repent! Hear the Maker’s Chant. His salvation will be the only chance at a glimpse of the Golden City!” A preacher screamed at the base of the Andraste statue. A man that appeared crazed, skin worn and broken out in hives. 

“The Maker has brought the Blight to Ferelden to burn those who refuse to hear his Chant. Repent! The Divine has declared all will enter the Golden City if they face the Blight!” 

“What a charming man.” Duran commented from his horse, earning a chuckle from Zevran. 

Elissa turned her horse away from the crowd that was gathering. Eyes scanning over the darken marble statue for a long second until she lead the way deeper into the city.

* * *

 

After paying for loggings for at least a night, Elissa slipped away while the other three went around the market district aiming to sell a few of their wares from the last journey. Zevran had offered to go with her, but Elissa had her own place to visit, alone.

The noble district was quiet compared to the rest of the city. The streets nicer and without that smell of piss that hung over the other parts of the city. With the Landsmeet being called a number of the manors were alive with teams of servants unpacking wagons of their Lord’s items. 

The district weaved upwards along the path that lead to the Palace and the Landsmeet Hall. 

The bottom of the district was filled with the smaller estates of the less powerful Banns. As the roads moved upwards towards the Palace, the estates and manors became larger and larger befitting the power the Lord of that house held. 

The closer one were to the Palace, the more influential one was.

Elissa was glad everyone else was to busy going about their days to notice her. She could remember the last time she walked along this path, near 2 years ago after her last stay at Court. 

She knew it was dangerous being this close to the Palace. Even with the protection she had from Arl Eamon and the Hinterland nobles it would stop Howe or Loghain from killing her outright, it wouldn’t stop a would be assassin.

There was only one thing she wished to see. At the top above all the other homes and just a short walk to the gates of the Palace was the manors of the Teyrns. Larger than the rest with even metal fences surrounding them offering the most powerful nobles of the Kingdom their own gardens inside of the city. 

In contrast to the dark stone and wood of Gwaren’s manor, the Cousland manor was made of a white marble and stone. Two stories and echoing memory of countryside estates with it’s large open windows and patios, it was where Elissa spent a good part of her life. 

She didn’t know what she expected being back there. Studying the building from across the street, maybe she expected to see her Father just outside waiting for her. Like he always did when he brought her to Court. 

Instead now, the manor was empty. The banners of House Howe flew in place of the Cousland ones and it was another reminder of what she had lost in this past year. 

Elissa closed her eyes and took a breath to steady herself. Why had she come? To just remind her that she was the last living Cousland? With tears threatening to fall, Elissa dipped her head and turned back down towards the gates of the district. Looking at the home would only remind her of more pain.

* * *

The Warden decided to take the back alleyways instead of taking the main road to the market district. Starfang’s hilt peeked out from underneath the cloak with each step. The chainmail and harden leather she wore masked her approach better than her usual plated armor.

The sun was starting to set and Elissa knew quite well that she didn’t want to get caught in these side streets after dark. As she made her way into a small clearing, shadows moved from their hiding spots and formed a circle around her. 

The muggers were not heavily armed, each carried their own weapons. A sword there, an axe with one, a few daggers. They looked nothing more than common thieves that had grown bold.

“Seems to me the Lady is lost, ain’t she?” One of the mugger’s voice croaked out. He was responded with a round of laughter. 

Elissa moved her hand up to knock the hood off of her head, auburn hair flowing in loose curls while her green eyes scanned around the muggers. 6 of them, 6 on 1. Not the worse odds she ever gone against. 

“Oh ain’t she a pretty one too, Tom. We got lucky here, yes we did.” One mugger spoke as he pointed at Elissa with his curved dagger. 

It was then that Elissa drew the blue glowing blade from her hips. Starfang shined in the low light as her left hand unclasped the cloak and let it dropped to the ground. 

That caused the group to stop in their approach, the men glancing around each other, “See! I told yous we shouldn’t of attacked that Sister. Kylon is sending whichever mercenary he can to hunt us down.” 

Tom, who appeared to be the leader of this small gang, shook his head and snapped towards the speaking man, “I tolds you to be quiet. There’s 6 of us and one of her. Deal with her.”

Elissa’s hands gripped the hand and half sword with two hands, glancing in between the men as agreed with Tom’s orders. 

But they would be stopped short from carrying out that order, there came a loud scream as Tom fell to the ground with an arrow shaft sticking out of his thigh. 

Coming from the way Elissa had been heading an entire platoon of City Guard came rushing forward. Elissa lost count after the 20th white cloak the City Guardsmen were known for wearing. The rest of the gang took one look at the coming horde, dropped their weapons and took off running the way Elissa had came. 

The City Guards didn’t pay Elissa a second glance, rushing to try and catch the running thieves. In the center of the horde walked the man that must’ve been the commander of this small selection of guard. Wearing a surcoat over the regular guard chain and a full helm, the man made his way towards Elissa. 

Snapping the visor up, the guard moved his hand forward, “Sergeant Kylon, Warden.”

A look of confusion passed over Elissa’s face, quite surprised that the man knew who she was by appearance. She worried for a moment that she was about to be taken captive, but the other guards were more busy searching the area for the gang’s hideout and supply depot than trying to capture the Warden. 

She clasped the man’s forearm and shook, “Have we met before, Sergeant?”

“No, no. But I have seen you before. Been with the Guard for nearly a decade now. And after the business at Ostagar, your name became even more famous. I have to wonder what brings you to these parts.”

“Business.” Elissa remarked swiftly, going to move Starfang back into his scabbard and picked up her cloak from where it had dropped. 

“Don’t we all. It seems the Maker has give me a break today. I.. require assistance with restoring order in parts of the City. Ever since the Civil War sparked crime has risen to a new length. The Palace have been unhelpful but we are close to finding the bottom of this. Tom here being a key in it all.” Kylon motioned over at the wounded man where four guards watched over him. 

Elissa did not answer straight away, taking the time to clasp her cloak back around her shoulders to allow her mind to think. She had a hard time picturing Loghain Mac Tir refusing to keep the streets of the capital safe and cleaned of criminals. 

It offered a unique chance to earn a much needed ally on the inside. If the City Guard could be swayed, they would have thousands of soldiers in the City right before the largest gathering of nobility. 

“You would be paid of course. And with this Landsmeet business coming up, you’ll have the City Guard behind you. At least, elements of it.” Kylon smiled at Elissa, as if knowing where the Warden’s head was going. 

It was the right thing to do besides the fact of the Landsmeet. 

Elissa offered the man a forced smile shaking her head, “You don’t need to pay, Sergeant. It’s the right thing to do. What do you need?”

Kylon motioned with his head to follow him as he strolled over towards Tom. With the Warden standing behind, Kylon kneeled down to get eye level with the mugger, “We found quite the book on Ser Friden. Remember him? The knight you butchered a few weeks ago.”

“I’ve done nothing wrong,” Tom grunted out, spitting a large mouthful of blood into the mud next to them, “This is harassment.” 

Behind them, guards were dragging the living members of Tom’s gang and throwing irons onto their wrists. Another pile of the dead members of the gang, those that had resisted a lawful arrest. The second larger than those living. 

Kylon clenched his jaw. His hand clasping the arrow shaft and twisted it deeper. Causing Tom to howl and screamed in pain as the guard shoved the arrow deeper into his soft muscle, “Start talking, Tom.”

After a few more seconds of pressing the arrow deeper, Kylon moved his hand. Tom grunted and breathed hard as he tried to catch his breath, “Oh fuck it, I don’t get paid enough for it. You know that warehouse down near the docks. The one that used to be own by that Tevinter shipping company. His name is Cyprian, some fucking blood mage that has been causing all of this. I got approached a few months ago to join up under his umbrella. He nearly got every gang in the City working for him.” 

A frown marked Kylon’s face at the troubling news. Standing he spoke to the guards grouping up the gang, “Ship them down to Fort Drakon and see someone fixes Tom’s leg here.”

There was the mumbled, “Yes, Sergeant.” by the platoon while Kylon sighed and rubbed his eyes. 

“Blood mages in the capital? Has law and order fallen so low, Sergeant?” Elissa’s eyes rested on the Sergeant. 

“It’s been like this for months, Warden. Arl, Teyrn, whatever the cunt wants to call himself, Howe, refuses to let us raid that building or take any action against these gangs.” 

“I have some experience dealing with Apsolates.”

“Aye, I heard what you did at the Tower. Warden, my men can’t do this alone. I can’t go to the Chantry and Templars about this, they’ll go to the Crown.” 

“We’ll help you.”

“We, Warden?”

“My companions and I. I left them at a tavern near the Market. I’ll feel better the sooner we deal with these mages.”

“Likewise, Warden. I’ll escort you. Lead the way.” 

* * *

“Maybe she’s enjoying herself, yes? I hear Isabela is down at the Pearl, Elissa could’ve ended up there.” Zevran was fully laid out on a couch in the large side room of the inn, sipping from a glass of wine. 

Duran sat nearby in a chair with his smoking pipe pressed to his lips while they both watched Wynne paced back and forth, “Does everything have to go back to sex? What if she got lost?”

“She said it herself, she spent half her life here. I’m sure she knows how to get back..” Duran mused, looking up from his feet to glance at Wynne.

“Then that terrible Arl Howe and Loghain got their hands on her.”

“We would know, I think. They seem like the type that would spread the news like wildfire.” Zevran swung his legs off the couch and sat up, placing the glass of wine on a small table in front of the couch. 

“We shouldn’t have let her go alone.” Wynne snapped at the two men, looking in between the Elf and Dwarf. 

“She told us to take the drake scales and dragon bones to Wade,  _ without _ her.” 

The door to the side room opened before any of the three members could speak again. Elissa and Kylon stood side by side, with a number of guards looking over their shoulders. 

Wynne snapped around when the door opened, Duran smiled and leaned back into his chair, “See, fine as day.”

Elissa moved into the room with Kylon behind her, “We have a job.”

“Warden, my dear, I thought this was meant to be the calm before the storm.” Zevran smirked as he stood up from the couch and cracked his neck. 

Elissa folded her hands behind her back and motioned to Kylon, “My men and I stumbled upon the Warden while hunting a mugger and his gang. After questioning the man he told us that the local gangs are being commanded by a blood mage based out of a warehouse near the docks.”

Wynne became pale at the mention of blood magic. She had seen too many of her own friends been turned by them, “Demons will linger .”

“How did you end up between the City Guard and some thieves, Warden?” Duran asked, lifting a brow as he glanced over towards Elissa. 

“I went on a walk.” There came a slight blush on Elissa’s cheeks. 

“Why is it always sodding blood mages? It’s either them or darkspawn. Why can’t it ever by a warehouse filled with triple cunted whores.” Duran grumbled while he put out his pipe. 

The sound of Wynne sighing was only overshadowed by Zevran chuckling. 

“Well, at least you didn’t come cover in blood like last time.” Zevran teased while Duran got off his seat. The three heading to their room to quickly arm themselves.

* * *

 

The streets were silent along this selection of docks.  With 50 or so guards spread around the streets and alleyways that lead to the warehouse, any traffic that usually came this way was being blocked and redirected. 

Resting against a wall, Elissa peeked out over the side, allowing her a view of the entrance to the building. Two men stood outside around a fire barrel next to the entrance. They were too far away to actually hear what they were saying but Elissa could hear their muffled voices well enough. 

“They don’t seem to know we’re here.” Elissa commented over her shoulder. Behind her in different positions along the wall was her regular companions along Kylon. A number of guards were spread out around them aswell, silent as they waited for the order. 

Zevran carried his recurve bow already drawn with an arrow notched on its string. Twin elven styled long daggers peeked out over his shoulders alongside the quiver full of arrows. 

Duran peeked up from under his metal helm, his long handle axe resting in his hands. He was dressed in a medium set of leather and chain styled much like the armor worn in Orzammer. 

Whilst Wynne had her head bent mumbling some sort of prayer, her hands grasping her staff. 

“It’s on you, Warden. Once you’re inside I’ll give you a bit before I send my men in.” Kylon whispered over towards the Warden. 

Elissa gave a nod and drew Starfang from her hip. Nodding over towards Zevran, “Take them out.”

The elf shifted from down the line and came closer. Using the natural darkness of the street, Zevran stepped out from behind the wall and brought his bow upwards. In the same motion drawing the string back and taking only a passing moment to take his aim, the arrow was sent flying through the darkness. 

The arrow slammed into the lower portion of one of the guard’s throat but before the other guard could make sense of what was going on, he too dropped with an arrow right through the forehead. 

Strapping her arm into the battered Redcliffe heater shield, Elissa pushed herself off the wall and moved in towards the entrance. The others following up behind forming a spear formation as they crossed the street and made it to the door. 

The familiar scent of dark magic hung over the warehouse. It hit her like a wave as soon as they walked in. It always carried the same taste, stale air. The lingering smell of decomposing bodies flew like wisps in the air. 

It reminded her much of what they faced at the Circle. Deep routed, the Blood Mages had been practicing their art for months by the strong smell. 

Elissa smacked the metal visor of the burgonet helm down over her face, the small slit narrowing her view. The front entrance was quiet and empty, with a single door leading onwards. The sound of Elissa’s metal armor shifting with every step echoed throughout the room.

Mere feet away from the door, muffled voices were heard coming from behind the door and the sound of someone walking up stairs. 

Shifting to her left, Elissa had enough time to position herself properly to strike at whoever opened the door. The door to the room opened and the unexpecting guard was bashed into the doorframe followed by Elissa lunging forward with Starfang, the tip cleaving through his stomach.

Elissa could hear clearly now the shouts of people from below, twisting her sword out, the Warden sent the dead man’s body tumbling downwards to where the next room waited. 

“Zev, flask.” Elissa moved away from the door and motioned towards the staircase. 

Taking one of the large green flasks from his belt, the Elf shifted his bow into his left hand and approached the door. Aiming, Zevran tossed the flask downwards to the middle of the room. The sound of glass breaking was heard and then the shouts of the unexpecting guards. 

Elissa took the stairs downwards two at a time with Duran right behind her, then Wynne followed by Zevran taking up the rear. 

The flask seemed to have done its job well enough, with one body already on the ground with extreme burns, leaving three in the room. 

Elissa reached the closest one. Having brought her shield up to protect her as she neared, the mercenary's sword glanced off the left side of the shield, leaving herself opened to be ran through with Starfang through the side of the stomach. 

One mercenary caught on fire from a blast that was sent from the top of Wynne’s staff, whilst the final found her kneecap being ruined by Duran’s swift parry that sent his axe head smashing into her knee. Followed up with slamming the axe downwards into the top of her skull. 

If the mage didn’t know they were there he sure did now from the screams of his dying guards.

* * *

 

It felt like hours fighting through that blasted warehouse. Every room, every hallway was another set of traps. Whoever this mage was had thought out his defense plan well enough, if it hadn’t been for Zevran’s keen eyes, the entire party would be dead four times over. 

Her shield was spattered in different stages of drying blood, her right pauldron had been damaged beyond repair when she took a blow from a warhammer. Each member was in some stage of injury. 

With only one more door left, Elissa brought her right foot upwards and slammed into the lock, the wooden door breaking open under the force. The anger boiled in the bit of her stomach until the point red edged on the corners of her vision. 

This room was larger than the others, it must of been the main storage room when the shipping company was still using it. Now a large dining table sat in the middle of the room with shelves bordering on the walls of the room. 

Standing in the middle was a well dressed man in foreign looking red robes. His right hand holding a twisted looking staff. The only hair on him was the short beard that covered his chin and face. To his right and left were another pair of mages, holding similar looking staffs. 

From behind them came the loud and pounding footsteps of the City Guard. Lead by Kylon, they started to fill the room while Elissa stood at the the end of the table closest to her, “Give up, Cyprian.”

The man seemed to hold a permanent amused look on his face, “My dear Warden, I have heard so much about you. ‘Tis a shame we must meet like this. Caladrius will be most displeased.”

Elissa had long gotten tired of the same long winded speeches blood mages made. Growling quite loudly she lifted Starfang up, a blue glow appearing around it as the lyrium rune powered into the sword came to life, “I have had enough with you bloody mages and your speeches. Give up or die.”

The mage titled his head back and started to laugh loudly. A silence forming over the room as his mages simply stared on at them unblinkingly. A chill set over the room and when Cyprian’s eyes lowered back onto Elissa, the Cousland nearly took a set back. 

His eyes were pitch black. 

“And I have had enough of you. You will serve me well, in whatever form I demand. Capture the Warden, kill the others.”

Cyprian and the other mages in front of them started to shift and change. A black mist surrounding them as their forms became twisted, taller. The other mages shifted into rather rage or sloth demons while Cyprian himself grew taller and taller. The form of a Pride demon appearing. 

Elissa could hear the guards shifting around them, fearful at the sight of the twisted figures, but she was already moving. 

Only seeing red, she allowed those teachings from Duran and Oghren to go to work. Anger, pure and unhinged ran through her blood. Rage, wrath, blinding and fueling her. The sight of her dying parents, her sister-in-law, every injustice wrought by Howe. 

Time seemed to slow down as chaos rang through the hall. The guards being torn apart and trying to fight against the demons, lead by Wynne and Duran. Elissa was running across the long wooden table towards Cyprian. The burning in her thighs and calves became a blur to her. The blue glow shifting to blue flames along Starfang’s blade. 

Elissa lunged off the edge of the table and aimed for the demon sword tip first. Starfang’s tip buried itself near the top of the demon's chest. Her body slammed into the demon and with it’s force, sent Cyprian stumbling backwards with black blood spraying from the large wound. The fire slowly burning the demon’s organs.

Elissa’s hand did not let go of her hilt and dragged the sword down with herself, cutting open Cyprian’s chest cavity. The demon’s body slumped against the wall and was helpless to the coming stabs from Elissa’s sword.  

Seeing their leader die before their eyes, the rest of the forces used the distraction to dispatch the rest of the demons. Rolling off of the Pride demon, Elissa’s body was covered head to toe in black blood, her breathing coming out hard as she stumbled to her feet.

“By the Maker…” Was all the Sergeant could get out at the sight of the dead demon.

Turning towards the Warden who had finally got to her feet with the help of Duran and Zevran, Kylon snapped his fist to his chest and bowed his head slightly, “Thank you, Warden. The City will know that it was you that ended this.”

* * *

 

The throne room was background sound to her. It had been like that ever since her Father returned from Ostagar without the King. 

Though she sat on the sole wooden throne and held King Maric’s golden crown on her head, she was nothing more than a seat warmer at this point. 

The Civil War had turned her last remaining allies into enemies. Those who remained this close now worshipped Loghain Mac Tir for the hero he once was. The man that had smashed the pride of the Empire at the River Dane. 

And in these recent days, those numbers dimmed as the Bann’s Alliance won victory after victory. 

“With the Landsmeet called, the truce offers us a unique chance to move our forces into key positions along River Drakon.” An unknown military officer spoke to her. Anora watched on with half attention, the Lord Regent would answer for her, like he always did.  

The Hero of the River Dane had seen better days. His skin a deathly pale, the strong and weathered appearance he was known for was gone. In the past year he had aged a good 10 years. 

With his eyes pulled back and heavy bags under them, he had taken to sitting in a chair in front of the stairs that lead up to the throne. Befitting his rank as Howe called it. It was nothing more than any other way for Howe to quite literally whisper into his ear. 

Loghain shifted in the chair and waved the minor noble off, “Colonel Decker. Come forward.”

Anora’s blue eyes peeked up from their wandering. She knew that tone in her Father’s voice, he was angry about something. 

There was some shifting of bodies around the crowded room but finally the tall and built form of the Guard Colonel stood before the throne. Richard Decker was a man entering his early 40’s with salt and pepper hair. Born to a lesser hedge knight, Anora recalled that he had fought at River Dane with her Father. 

The Colonel ignored Loghain to begin with, bowing respectfully to the Queen, “Your Majesty.”

If it hadn’t been for the years of politics a small smirk might’ve appeared on the Queen’s face. Anora nodded at the man from her spot on the throne allowing the Colonel to finally turn to Loghain, “Your Excellency.”

Standing next to Loghain’s chair was Howe himself. With the army smashed at Ostagar, the Kingdom torn in Civil War and people dying by the thousands, Howe looked quite pleased with himself. A satisfied smirk plastered across his leathery face, “Colonel, there is quite the buzz of news around the City today, loud enough that I even heard of it. Can you tell me what it is?”

Decker looked quite bored with the conversation already but the Colonel shook his head, “I haven’t the faintest idea.”

“That you had one of your officers, a Sergeant Kylon and a platoon of our guards assisted traitor Warden Cousland clear out a warehouse under the Crown’s protection. Slaughtering everyone before calling it a night.” 

There were eyes on her. Members of the Court sending glances upwards to the silent Queen on her throne. She kept her face emotionless but her heartbeat quickened at the mention of Elissa. Her fingers wrapped around the wooden armrests of the throne, needing something to keep her hands busy as she tried to not let her mind wander to Elissa. 

She needed to find Erlina as soon as she was able. 

Decker snorted, itching his chin with his leather gloved hand, “My Lord,..”

“Your Grace. I am the Tryen of Highever too,  _ Colonel _ .” Howe corrected the man with a small hiss. 

Decker’s jaw clenched, blue eyes settling on the noble, “Of course,  _ Your Grace _ . I did in fact order the mission when Kylon came to me. They had found the location of the ring leader we have been searching for. The same leader you have told me for months to ignore and leave alone, though he terrorized the streets.”

Decker took a step closer to the men, voice hissing the next words in his low tone, “Funny you mention that it was under Crown protection seeing as it was a hive of blood mages that shifted into demons when attacked.”

Silence filled the room as the Colonel’s words reached all corners of the throne room. 

Howe leaned over to whisper into Loghain’s ear. The Lord Regent remained quiet, studying the Colonel from underneath his hooded stare. Decker had taken that step back down and rested his hand on his sword belt, awaiting what they had to say. 

Finally Loghian cleared his throat to speak, “Colonel Decker, if it was any other man, you would be killed for allowing such a traitor to work alongside our honorable City Guard. Instead, you have served long as the commander of the City Guard and past time you pass it on to another man. For the time being, Teyrn Howe will oversee the running of the Guard as we search for another to fill the large shadow you will leave.”

Decker kept Loghain stare, his eyes narrowed with venom dripping from his lips, “I remember a man that inspired change, greatness and hope during the Rebellion. I remember a man that crushed one of the greatest armies Thedas could field and defined Ferelden character with simple honorable mannerisms. I wait with glee for the moment the Warden hangs your body from Fort Drakon,  _ Your Excellency _ .” 

The Colonel’s cold words sounded loudly through the room. Loghain’s guards moved forward. Loghain lifted his hand up and simply waved the them off, “You may take your leave.”

Decker moved his hand upwards to unclasp the white cloak that hung from his shoulders. He threw the cloak in front of Loghain’s feet and spat on it before marching out of the room. 

“That is enough for this morning.” Howe called out over the Court, allowing the whispering masses to exit as he spoke in low tones with Loghain. 

Anora was swift to stand from the throne and make the hurried steps downwards to the exit. The sound of her heels echoing off the ground, making for the back of Richard Decker. 

“Colonel.” The Queen’s voice rang out over the empty hallway. 

It made the man pause and turn, giving Anora the time she needed to close the distance. The aged man gave a bow to the Queen, “Your Majesty.”

“Come, away from prying ears and eyes.” Anora motioned for the man to follow her. The two started to become lost in the interconnecting hallways of the Palace. It was one of the good things Anora had found during her teenage years, the Palace held a number of unused and forgotten spaces. 

Once Anora felt the chances of them being overheard were slim to none, she slowed from a brisk walk to a stroll, allowing Decker to walk alongside her, “I apologize for my Father, Colonel.”

Decker seemed to hold back a laugh, “You do what you must to survive, Your Majesty, I am not blind to it.”

Anora nodded absentmindedly, her eyes on the hallway in front of them, “Ferelden has had enough of surviving, I believe. The winds of change are blowing. No matter what my Father calls himself, I am still Queen.”

“In name only, to some.”

“I was taught to rule with a quiet sternness and to carry a large rock in my right hand.”

That brought a smile to the corners of Decker’s mouth. Eyes peeking out of the corner of his eye at the youthful Queen, “Was only a matter of time. Howe has been itching to sack me for months.”

“There is no need for you to go, Colonel. At least, I have a use for you, if you’re still willing to serve.”

“I am a soldier, Your Majesty. That’s what I do. I am listening to what you have to say.”

“I believe the Court is in the need of a change. With the Landsmeet’s shadow growing larger, the entire nobility of the Kingdom are arriving. The chance to restore order is near but there is one person we need on our side.”

“The Warden. Elissa Cousland. Your Father haven’t shut up about her since Ostagar.”

Anora nodded, “Elissa was a close friend before fate took us on our different paths. I have it on good authority my Father and Howe plan to remove me from the Palace for my ‘protection’ and place me in Howe’s estate. I aim to send my faithful maid Erlina to Eamon’s estate with a message for Elissa. I wish for you to go with her and protect her.”

“You could send any guard to do that, Your Majesty.”

“I need someone that isn’t another face. You were the commander of the Guard for years. The nobles know you, the people respect you. Your voice will add to those already rising about my Father and Howe’s rule. At Eamon’s estate you will be beyond their reach until the Landsmeet.”

Silence settled in between the two as Richard thought over what the Queen said. 

“I was never good at politics, Your Majesty. If I was, I wouldn’t of spat in your Father’s face this morning. What has happened can not go unanswered any longer. I will do what you ask.”

The two came to stop in the middle of the hallway with Decker going to a knee in front of the Queen and bowing his head, “Rise then, Ser Richard Decker. When this is all over, your service to the Crown will not be forgotten.”

* * *

 

The skies seemed to be permanently overcast along the Coastlands and Highlands. With another storm brewing over the sea, that night would bring another round of rain. 

The sounds of scream and the smell of burning flesh went well along with the dark brewing clouds. Sat on a barrel, Thomas Howe’s teeth sank into a  breakfast sausage, watching his men burn down the small farm home and dragged the farmers before him. 

A mother and a father, their three children and a few farm hands that had survived the wrath of the Howe Men-At-Arms, were forced to their knees in front of young Lord. Wiping his chin with the back of his hand he placed the sausage back down on the plate, drinking from a mug of ale. 

“I must thank you for breakfast, such good hosts” Thomas commented, glancing around the burning farm and then  landing back onto the family. 

The father of the family stared up at Thomas through a half beaten right eye. The other members of the family shared similar wounds from the rough beating at the hands of Thomas’s men. 

The Lord stood up and brushed the crumbles off of his long coat and clasped his hands behind his back. He walked down the line of captives, stopping in front of the youngest girl of the children. A girl no older than 17 with long flowing ginger hair and bright blue eyes. 

Thomas gave the girl a large smile, showing his rather canine like teeth. His leather gloved fingers brushed a few strands of her hair behind her ear, the girl flinching hard at Thomas’s feather light touch, “Your daughter, Farmer?”

The Father struggled against the force of Thomas’s guard,  trying to break free, “Leave her!”

Thomas’s grin grew larger, dragging his fingers across the delicate pale flesh. Suddenly moving away and with several long strides, he crouched in front of the farmer, “I like redheads, they’re my favorite. They’re always the crazy ones in the bed, am I right?”

A few of Howe’s Men-At-Arms chuckled in agreement with their Lord, Thomas’s icy blue eyes stayed leveled on the farmer’s face, “You have information that I want. If you give it to me, you and your family will be allowed to live. Fair enough, don’t you agree?”

The other man could only nod in agreement. 

“Known Cousland Rebels were seen here at this farm earlier this week. You gave them safe harbor. Among them was someone of very special importance. So I ask, very simply and kindly, where did they go?”

Silence fell over the gathered people, the only sound coming from the fire breaking and shattering one of the logs that kept up a barn. The other man stared up at Thomas, taking several long moments to think, “Because you asked so, very simply and kindly, I’ll give you the same.”

The farmer leaned up as much as he could even though there was a guard holding him down, “I have no fucking idea what you’re talking about, you crazy cunt.”

The grin dropped from Thomas’s face. His lips twisting into a tight frown, finger flying up to jab in the direction of the youngest of the farmer’s sons. One of the soldiers half dragged the kicking boy towards Thomas while the Lord himself stood up from the mud. 

The boy could not be older than 11 with similar red colored hair of his sister and the rest of his family. Thomas’s dark gloved contrasted it when it took a tight grasp of it, pulling the boy to him. With his right hand, Thomas drew his long hunting dagger from his belt and placed the blade to the boy’s neck, “Do you know I always wished for a younger brother?”

“I was the youngest myself, treated poorly by my Father and my elder siblings. I wonder if your son suffered the same fate. Perhaps I could take him in, raise him to be a proper Howe son.”

While the farmer opened his mouth to respond, Thomas’s hand sawed across the boy’s neck and used the grip on his hair to pull the boy’s head back while he sawed through his throat. Screams from the rest of the family echoed through Thomas’s ears while blood sprayed wildly from the large wound along the boy’s neck. 

It drenched the father in the blood of his own son, loud gasping sounds coming from the boy as he took his last breaths of life. Thomas shoved the dead boy off to the side, the body falling face first into the mud and forming a large pile of blood around it. 

Pressing the bloody blade into the farmer’s cheek, Thomas’s voice hissed out once more, “I’ll ask only one more time, farmer. Where. Is. Fergus. Cousland?”

* * *

 

“These bloody pants are making my balls itch.” A heavy accented Highland voice spoke up from the otherwise silent group of soldiers.

Around 20 men stood around the small forest clearing. Not that far from the road that ran through the forest and lead towards the Fort they aimed to take. 

A number of naked dead bodies laid in a pile just on the edge of the clearing, the men  shifting in the clothes and armor they wore. Standing tall and carrying a axe in his right hand, wild long ginger hair showed to the world along a full ginger beard. His left hand itched his pants as he made his way towards a lone figure that stood watching the Fort in the distance. 

Ser Roland Gilmore looked nothing like the boy knight he was at Highever. With ginger hair wild now and nearly reaching his shoulders, the beard added to the fierce nearly barbarian look he held now. 

Moving the axe to rest on his shoulder, his left hand rested on his sword belt. He came to stand next to the figure. With auburn hair falling straight to the tips of his shoulders, the trademark round beard had been traded for a full beard too, many had left proper grooming when this war started. 

With his hands resting on the pommel of his sword, Fergus Cousland scanned all the landscape surrounding the Fort. The hamlet of Avoch  was nothing more than a large wooden box fort surrounded by a small number of homes and outlying farms befitting a hamlet, “They haven’t seemed to realize their patrol is late.”

“Do you really think this is going to work, Fergus?” 

“If we can get inside, the garrison will be no match for us with the element of surprise. Besieging the Fort will only attract Thomas or one of his attack dogs.” Fergus moved to slam the visor of the metal helm down, fully covering his face from view. 

“Let’s hope Iona’s people got the citizens out.” Gilmore whistled for two of their own men to bring forth the two horses captured alongside the patrol. 

Mounting up into the horse, Fergus followed with swinging his leg into the saddle and sitting up onto the beast, “Let us get this done with then, men.”

Lining up into two columns on the road, Gilmore and Fergus lead the way on their horses, fitting the illusion of being the officers of the patrol. As they approached the hamlet there seemed to be quite the lack of people surrounding their homes, an odd silence settling over the area as the column moved closer towards the gate. 

“See, there they are. Maybe they know what is going on.” A older man stood on the wall that overlooked the entrance. With a thick red fur lined cloak around his shoulders, Fergus had to figure he was looking at Ser Aladric. The commander of the Howe forces in the area. 

The column marched into the gates once the gate was slipped opened for them. Entering the courtyard, Fergus walked his horse in a small circle, eyes scanning from under his visor as he counted the numbers on the walls. 

They seemed to be slightly outnumbered but with the element surprise and a few crossbow bolts that could be evened out easily. 

Ser Alaric came marching down from the side of the wall towards where Fergus still sat on his horse, “The locals just up and left in the middle of the night, not a soul left out there. I sent out a few more patrols out to scout the area. You’ll stay here and protect the Fort itself, Ser Ramson.”

Fergus could see out of the corner of his eyes his men spreading out, hands resting on their weapons. Taking the few moments of pause to move his left hand up to lift his visor up and his right to grasp the hilt of his sword. Fergus could see the realization twisting on Alaric's face. 

The smiling face of Fergus Cousland was the last thing Ser Alaric saw alive, “Now!” 

Fergus’s right hand drew his steel longsword and hacked into the side of Alaric's unprotected face. The Cousland crossbow men taking out a number of archers before they knew what going on. 

Fergus’s blade hacked deep into the side of the Knight’s brain and face, he twisted the blade out as he watched Gilmore throw himself from his horse to slam his axe head into the upper chest of a charging spear wielding Howe soldier. 

The blade hacked into the side of Alaric's brain and face, twisting the blade, Fergus’s left hand gripped the reins. Twisting the horse to the side, Fergus’s right hand that gripped his sword came flying down to block a stab from a spearman. 

The quick action spooked the horse, causing it to start move uncontrollably. While Fergus attempted to control the horse another Howe soldier came close, gripping the sides of Fergus's armor and pulling him down. 

The horse was dragged down alongside Fergus, the man was saved from having his leg crushed by the soldier actually pulling him from the saddle. The longsword was dropped from his grip alongside the loose helm going flying on impact. When Fergus landed, the two men started to roll through the mud, both trying to gain the dominant form over the other.  

Fergus was the bigger man and was able to twist the two around, with him ontop. His left hand slipped to pull the short dagger from his sword belt and slammed it into the soldier’s right eye while the two were locked in the struggle. 

Fergus shoved all his weight onto the man’s forearms, the dagger breaking into the back of the man’s skull. Leaving his dagger in the soldier, Fergus recovered his sword and got onto one knee before another Howe soldier came rushing forward with a spear. 

His sword twisted across his body from the right side, with it his upper body. The spear was redirected by mere inches away from Fergus’s chest. His left hand, while the spear was still being parried, gripped the shaft and pulled backwards. 

Paired with the parry and then pulling, the soldier was unexpectedly being pushed forward, right onto the range of Fergus’s sword to hack into his unprotected calf. 

Mud and blood covered Fergus’s face in a thick layer now. His auburn hair stained with the same, the rightful Teyrn finally getting to his feet. Fergus only had a passing moment to take stock of the fighting before it slowly came to a stop. 

The Howe soldiers seemingly taking in the appearance of Fergus, the supposed man that died at Ostagar. 

“That’s Fergus Cousland!”

“He’s meant to be dead!”

“That’s him, look at the hair.”

Fergus’s eyes caught Gilmore’s as the former Knight moved over towards the Teyrn. The Cousland Loyalists surrounding the few remaining soldiers. Gilmore leaned down to speak in Fergus’s ear, “The only reason any of this has worked is because they think you a myth, a rumor. If Daddy Howe knew you still lived, and had proof. An entire army will be in the Coastlands within weeks.”

“We can’t just butcher them.”

“Has that stopped us before? As that stopped the bastard Howe?”

“Me being kept a secret is also the reason we haven’t had masses flocking to our banner. Why the Lords of the Stormcoast refuse to assist, why half the nobility are too afraid to answer the call.” Fergus said through hissed teeth before stepping away from Gilmore.

Fergus wiped his sword clean across his pant leg and returned it to the place on his hip. Gilmore was right on at least in half. When Fergus arrived back to Highever with only less than 200 men and everyone thinking he died at Ostagar, if offered them a unique ability to send vibrations of fear to Thomas Howe. 

Out of the 30 or so men that had manned the Fort only 7 were left alive. On their knees in a neat line surrounded by Fergus’s own men, the man walked along the short line, making sure every soldier got a long good look at him. 

“Gilmore thinks I should simply butcher all of you and call it a day. I am many things but I am not a Howe. You will go to every corner of the Teyrnir. From the Waking Sea to Amaranthine and tell all what you saw here. That Fergus Cousland still yet lives and is fighting for his home. Let them decide if it’s the truth or not.”

“Do not think this a mercy. You will be watched and if you fail to do as I command, you will be killed. Let them go.” Fergus called off his men and made them leave a hole in a circle. 

It took a few moments to realize that Fergus was serious in what he said before the former Howe soldiers took off running across the courtyard, out the gate and into the wilds. 

“Do you think that was smart?” Gilmore called out, watching the figures of the soldiers run. 

“It’ll certainly make Thomas more rash than what he already is. Come, send a message to Mac Richter, we have taken back Avoch for him.”

* * *

 

  
The war room in Castle Cousland was deathly silent. With the news now spreading that the loyalists captured yet another Fort and the growing rumors of Fergus Cousland, things were starting to weigh heavily on each of the Howe bannermen. 

Hunched over the war map of the Teyrnir, Thomas Howe was the cause of the deathly silence that hung over the room. He had not lashed out like he usually did when they lost, he only became quiet. 

It was Bann Marcus, trusted Bann of Knotwood Hills, spoke to cut the silence, “My Lord, if the rumors of Fergus Cousland are true, we risk even more nobles flocking to the Cousland banner.”

Thomas’s head slowly looked up from the map, a smile on Thomas’s face, “But they are true.”

Marcus shared a look with another noble at the table. Bann Aurelius of the Wending Wood. Another favorite of Thomas Howe, “My Lord, we must call for more troops then. Your Father must know.”

Thomas only shook his head, the grin still on his face as he glanced to Aurelius, “Where is nearly every noble in the Kingdom travelling to currently?”

“T..the Landsmeet, My Lord?”

“Precisely. Even if Fergus Cousland lives, it matters not. The great Storm Lords, the Banns of the Highlands and so on are taking a long stroll to the Capital to argue in a great hall. My Father named me acting Lord of Highever and I intend to hold it. Send ravens to every corner of the Teyrnir, I call forth the bannermen. I invite them to Highever to marshal. While the Lords are away, we shall use their forces to crush these Loyalists once and for all.”

“And if they refuse, My Lord?”

“We’ll kill them all the same.”

A new voice spoke up in the room now, heavily accented to the Highever region, “My Lord, what of Fergus Cousland then?”

Thomas’s grin only grew larger, “Leave that to me.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> n the first draft, Fergus did not enter the story until later game. It was somewhere in the middle of this turning from a one-shot to a short story length that I planned out a Highever plotline. Which turned into something else.
> 
> Just a bit into the ranks of nobility and my reasoning for things; Lord/Lady (Baron) - Bann (Baron-Count) - Arl/Arless (Count-Duke) - Teyrn/Teyrna (Duke) - King/Queen   
> Banns such as Alfstanna and Franderel who rule Walking Sea/West Hill would be closer to the size and strength of a County than a traditional English Barony/Earldom. (Think Earl of Warwick) 
> 
> While like Arl Eamon who is basically the de facto Teyrn of the Hinterlands doesn’t quite fill the bill of being a simple Arl. (Think Count of Burgundy before Dukedom)
> 
> The Bannorn is filled of namely independent Banns that swear fealty directly to the Crown rather than to a liege that who when swears to the Crown. It would have the potential to   
> be like the Hinterlands if a powerful Bann was able to be named Arl.
> 
> There will be a lot of OC Banns, Arls and noble houses to fill the void that Bioware left. In doing so, I imagine Thedas thus Ferelden as a larger place,population and space wise. 
> 
> I try to keep try to Ferelden Lore politics. With the nobility, though following a feudal system swearing oaths of fealty and so forth, not following Absolutism. The Crown, to the Royal Family, is the State, while the Crown to the nobility is what powers they give them

Elissa had never been into Eamon’s estate before, even as the daughter of Bryce Cousland. Her Father and Eamon were never close friends, they tolerated each other at the best moments. 

Being back in such an estate brought forth memories from what felt like a different lifetime. She had been born into a world few understood. Wealth, politics, smoky back rooms and meeting halls. Wandering glances and wide smirks. It was a world that she had forgotten in the year travelling across Ferelden. What she had been, what she thought her future was back then. 

It awakened that girl she could remember. Just on the edge of her memory, that fun loving spitfire her Father used to call her. The person that still lived in the fall reaches of her mind, in a box that she had locked away to give everything else up in the insanity her life had become. 

She had always wanted to escape that life. The life of gilded cages and high expectations. To be the warrior or adventurer out of the greatest tales of Thedas. 

Elissa crack her neck. Thoughts like those would only drive her even more out of her head and she had other things to worry about. Though, she still found her hands fixing the front of the leather coat she wore. 

The usual plate she wore had been damaged beyond repair by the battle the other night. She hoped whatever Duran’s deal with Wade was good enough as a placement for her. 

Elissa was in her own little world and did not hear Alistair’s footsteps as the man came to the spot next to Elissa. Looking over the main entrance as the teams of servants was decorating and cleaning the entrance. Dressed in similar casual clothes, he ate from a large platter of cheese and crackers, “Something on your mind, Elissa?”

The Warden did not speak much out there on the road. The closest Alistair had ever gotten her to open up was back at Ostagar when her anger was fresh and bright. It never failed for Alistair to try, Elissa interested Alistair. 

It could’ve been being back in the Capital, the stress from the coming Landsmeet, or the idea of seeing Anora again, but Elissa found herself nodding slowly, “It’s odd. Being back here. In this world.”

“In this world?”

“House Cousland is as old as Ferelden itself. Ours date back to the rise of King Calenhad the Great. Some went as far to think the Cousland’s blood is more noble than that of the Theirin’s. The strength of Highever spanned from Waking Sea to Amaranthine. My Father was the second, arguably the, most powerful man in the Landsmeet.  I was the close friend to Queen Anora. My Brother’s future was to rule Highever while my future was open. Would I marry into Orlais and rock the Court? Or maybe a Free Marcher. Some went as far to whisper that it should be I that married Cailan.”

The last rumor was the one that Elissa feared the most. In the ending months of Cailan’s rule, it was that that ran wild. With talk of Anora being unable to produce a heir rising daily, a Cousland had to be used to stabilized the Kingdom. 

There were more light hearted rumors, those that surrounded her and Anora. A plan to escape to Antiva that had been taken out of context and swirled to paint Anora as some pirate queen. 

Alistair popped a cheese covered cracker into his mouth while he offered the platter towards Elissa with a gesture. She waved off and allowed the silence to set in between them as Alistair finished chewing, “When you went ahead, Eamon talked a lot about you. The possibilities he called it. Saying you would be the perfect wife for myself.”

Elissa snorted, “Of course he would. Glad to see Eamon hasn’t changed at all.”

“Do tell.” Alistair commented, popping another cheese covered cracker into his mouth. 

The Warden was speaking freely now, only remembering to keep her voice down from the wandering servants, “Eamon was Cailan’s right hand. If the King was taking a shit, Eamon wouldn’t be far to wipe his ass.”

“He was Cailan’s Uncle.”  _ ‘And mine.’ _ was left unsaid. 

“It was more than that. My Father never spoke highly of Eamon. Always said that Eamon wanted more, he thought he deserved more. Sold off his sister at the first chance to tie the Guerrin and Theirin bloodlines. Became even more self serving afterwards. He was  _ royal _ after all.”

“I didn’t know you had such  _ passion _ for politics. ‘ _ House Cousland is as old as Ferelden itself _ ’” Alistair teased with a smile. 

“It was Anora’s doing. She’s the master of it.”

Alistair arched a brow, eating another cracker, “You and the Queen were that close?”

Elissa scanned over the hall, a large number of servants being outside to unload the heavier items from the baggage train outside the estate. The Warden shifted closer, lowering her voice to barely a whisper, “Alistair, I don’t know if this was your masterplan to ask for my hand in marriage but there is  _ nothing  _ you have going on that does  _ anything _ for me.” 

Alistair was dumbfounded into silence, earning a smirk from Elissa. 

Alistair stared at her with a raised brow, “D..dd you make a joke? And smiled. By the Maker that is a smile. The world is ending.”

The stiff frown came back to Elissa, sending a pointed look over back at Alistair, but it only made the man chuckle and Elissa give a short giggle, “What did Leliana say to Eamon’s wonderful plan?”

“Oh she found it  _ extremely _ funny… wait. What did you mean ‘you have nothing going on that does anything for me?” Alistair trailed off in the middle of his sentence, eyes going over to Elissa as his mind played over the conversation. 

Elissa only arched a brow at him, allowing the silence to tell the answer. 

“Bloody hell, Leliana was right. She always said you had that...look about you. Why haven’t you mentioned it before?”

It felt strange to say it. Having Alistair know  _ that _ . Knowing one of the most guarded secrets, “What do you expect? For me to throw it out in casual conversation? Are you disappointed now? Were you having second thoughts about the throne?”

“Maker no, no. You know how I feel about anything that has to do with the throne. Eamon saw that I would never be fit for it. Anora does it well, she can do it. Or you, Queen Elissa Cousland. That as a nice ring to it.”

“Anora used to tease that I should marry Cailan. She couldn’t control him but I could. And beat him in single combat. So then I can rule alone.” Elissa found herself saying without really thinking, recalling the memory from the depth of her mind. 

Alistair was stunned into silence once more. This was the most he had ever seen Elissa at any level of ease. In the months they had spent travelling and fighting with each other, she had never spoke at any  _ real _ length about her past. It made him, and all the others, wonder. 

“You two were that close?” Alistair asked carefully afraid if he would speak too loudly it would spook this Elissa back into hiding. 

Elissa only stared onwards at the open door, a soft, “Yeah.” coming from her lips. 

There were few things people could hide successfully. Their love for another was one of them. Alistair studied the side of Elissa’s face, the thousand yard stare was a common sight on Elissa’s face, but this stare looked different. It felt different. 

“I..I never brought it up before? Never mentioned it?” Elissa asked, looking back over towards Alistair. 

The man in turn simply shrugged his shoulders, “You could’ve  but I don’t recall it.”

“If you ever have the pleasure to meet Anora, you will meet one of the most kind hearted people in this entire world. But if you meet Queen Anora, the dread Ice Queen of Cailan, she can be difficult to get along with.”

“I don’t want the throne, Elissa. No matter how many speeches Eamon gives to me about how I need to cast off ‘the Warden’. I trust you and if you say Anora is not what Eamon says she is, then I believe it. Teagan told us that the civil war has been between Loghain and the Banns, not her. I don’t know her, but I know you.” 

“I know,” Elissa sighed loudly, rubbing her gloved hand over the features of her face, “It doesn’t make any of this easier. I..I..”

Elissa trailed off to only sigh again, “I am sorry, Alistair, I didn’t mean to trouble this with you. It’s just this place has a way of making me remember things. Things I am not sure I am ready to remember. It was easier out there with the whole world against us.”

Alistair only smiled at her, nearly seeing the first wall surrounding Elissa being torn down, “You’re not alone, Elissa, you never have been alone. None of us have ever pushed you, you needed your space, but all of us are here for you. You saved Duran from the Deep Roads, you went with me to face my sister, you bloody battled Flemeth the dragon to help our personal heartless shwed. To only name a few.” 

Before Elissa could answer, Eamon appeared from the hallway behind them, “News have just reached me, Loghain and Howe are coming to visit us this afternoon.”

The almost soft smile that Elissa had on her face since the start of the conversation dropped, Cold realization of the reality coming back to her. She turned to face Eamon fully, “For what purpose?”

“I did call the Landsmeet, my Brother is the proclaimed leader of the Bann Alliance against Loghain and I travel with the most wanted fugitive in Ferelden. Any of the above.” Eamon teased and patted both Alistair and Elissa on the shoulder. 

“I forgot to mention, you did good work with the City Guard, Elissa. A letter came this morning from that Kolyn fellow. Loghain dismissed Colonel Decker from his position as commander of the guard. They’re in a uproar about it.”

“They dismissed Decker? Didn't he fight with Loghain at the River Dane?” Elissa shook her head.

“He did. I thought the City Guard was going to be beyond our reach but this offers us a chance to rob him of an important ally.”

“How is the guard so important?” Alistair asked.

“Some 5,000 men who can be used to arrest every member of nobility over the course of a night.” Eamon explained with a flash of annoyance in this voice.

“That...makes a lot of sense.” Alistair mumbled.

“It only furthers that Loghain has lost his grip on reality. And that Howe whispers into his ear. Anyways, I’ll send a servant to collect both of you before lunch. I’d rather not eat before meeting with the two.” Eamon gave them a parting smile before moving forward to direct a few of the servants to which trunks to unload from the wagons. 

“He seems in a rather good mood.” Alistair mused out loud while Elissa leaned over to take one of the cheese covered crackers.

* * *

 

“They’re coming, Your Majesty.”

Anora’s back was to the rest of the room, her eyes looking out through the window of the Royal Chambers that offered a view of the nobility district and the rest of the City. 

Erlina and Decker wore heavy hooded cloaks over their regular clothes. The maid wearing one of her many serving dresses while Decker wore a set of armor with the hilt of a longsword peeking out from his hip. 

Anora gave one small sigh before turning from the window and walking to her writing desk. Two letters laid finished, only needing her seal now. With the hot wax dripping, she carefully poured the hot wax on either letter to close them before pressing the royal seal into the wax. 

Anora placed the one letter into either hand of Erlina and Decker, “They both goto Elissa and both are the same. In case one of you are captured. Go, now before they lock down the Palace.” 

The Queen watched the two exit the rooms and headed out into the city, leaving Anora alone once more. Moving towards her dresser, she moved her hands up and placed the golden crown upon her head. Try as Howe and her Father might, Anora was still the Queen. They couldn’t take that from her. 

It didn’t take long for the loud sound of boots hitting the ground and the sound of low voices were heard through the doors of her chambers. Standing in the center of her room, hands clasped in front of her body, she stared at the number of armored bodies moved into the room. 

In the center was the aged appearance of both her Father and Howe. If it was even possible Loghain looked even worse than he did days before. The same silver armor he had worn for years looked too heavy on him, too big. As if it was a child wearing his Father’s armor. 

“Anora, we must remove you from the Palace over security reasons. With Eamon in the City and this Warden running wild, who knows what they will do next to place this Alistair on the throne.” Loghain’s voice sounded raspy and rough, not holding the strength that he was known for having. 

Anora’s eyes moved from her Father’s to rest on Howe who stared at her with unflinching hollow eyes. The Queen’s voice contrasted the near whispers Loghain spoke in, “And where I am to be moved to?”

“The Arl of Denerim’s Estate has always been away from the rest of the nobility district. Close to Fort Drakon, we can protect you there.” Anora felt uncomfortable by the look on Howe’s face.

“What type of Queen would I be if I simply surround myself with a small army due to popular opinion that disagree with actions by my own  _ appointed  _ _advisers_?” The venom dripped from Anora’s voice, looking in between the two men. 

Loghain eyes settled on his daughter. Anora’s fierce glare staring back at her Father. It was the issue they had danced around since Loghain took power from Anora when he returned from Ostagar. She was nothing more than a figurehead but none dared to say the words out loud.

“It’s for your own protection, Anora. It’s already final.” Loghain finally whispered out before turning on his heel and walking out of the room. 

Anora had to hold back the sudden urge to cry. She arched her head up and stared at the disappearing figure of her Father.  He had always been there to protect her, against Cailan, against Maric, against the entire world if she had asked him to. 

“This way, Your Majesty.” Howe motioned with his hand towards the doors, eyes still fixed on her. 

Anora eyes snapped to the still smirking Howe before stepping forward with the Arl and his guards flanking around her.

* * *

 

Luckily it seemed the Maker was on the side of Decker and Erlina. The two were able to slip out of the Palace without any issue and was able to make it a fair distance before they slowed to a walk. Looking over their shoulders, they could see a dozen more guards locking down the gates of the Palace seemingly a shadow passing over the entire City. 

The two were silent all the way to Eamon’s Estate. It was larger than the other Arls a sign of the man’s own private wealth and powers as one of the more powerful Arls in the Kingdom. The cast iron gate was manned by a number of Men-At-Arms and Knights bearing the Redcliffe crest on them. 

The knight lifted his visor up while Decker moved the hood from his grey head, his hand going to remove the letter from its hiding spot and showing the Royal Crest, “I must speak to the Warden.”

The knight’s eyes narrowed, “The Arl isn’t taking visitors at the current moment.”

Decker bite down on the inside of his cheek, “I said the  _ Warden _ not the Arl.”

Before the two could be thrown into some sort of yelling match, a humming figure came walking up from the sidewalk from the direction of the gates that guarded the nobility district. Duran had decided to take a walk to stretch his legs and seemed to have returned just at the perfect time. 

Glancing up and in between the two men, Duran offered a smile over towards the knight, “A problem, Ser Perth?”

“Nothing, Duran. Simply someone wishing to speak to the Arl.”

“The Warden you bloody idiot,” Decker hissed out, turning to the direction of the dwarf, “You are one of Elissa Cousland’s companions, yes?”

“If that’s what you want to call it, yes.”

Decker presented the letter with the Royal seal, the older man eyes meeting Duran’s, “I bear a message for the Warden Cousland directly from the Queen.”

Duran’s eyes flicked from the seal and up to the man. Noticing the large cloak he wore and the shifting eyes of Erlina, “Wouldn’t want to keep the Queen waiting would we?”

* * *

If it was not for the events of the past year a wide range of emotions would’ve played across her face, her fingers curled around the edge of the letter, bringing it to her forehead. After all this time?

But there were the words,  _ ‘Always’.  _

Eamon stared at the Warden with fixed eyes, leant against his own desk. While Alistair and Duran shared a look. Standing in the middle of the Arl’s study were both Decker and Erlina, waiting in silence as the Warden finished reading. Elissa herself sat in one of the chairs that rested in front of the Arl’s desk, turned to face where Decker and Erlina stood. 

“Before we left Lord Regent Loghain and Arl Howe were on their way to escort Anora from the Palace.” Decker spoke once it became obvious Elissa had read whatever words were written in the private letter, 

Eamon’s eyes shifted from the Warden to rest on the former guard Colonel, “Then it is as we fear, Loghain and Howe have become mad with power.”

Elissa eyes still scanned over the letter, the voices starting to blur around her. Could Loghain be that blinded to the truth he would sign his daughter's life away? 

“Where did they take her?” Alistair asked from his spot next to Duran. 

“We assume the Arl of Denerim’s estate. They want her away from the nobility.” The former Guard Colonel explained. 

“Assume?” Duran asked 

“There are not many places they can hold Her Majesty without attracting even more attention than it is now.” 

Eamon shook his head and stroked his chin, “Howe and Loghain will see to ensuring no one will be able to get through to the Queen.”

“We can’t leave her there,“ Elissa spoke for the first time since reading the letter. Her voice surprisingly soft with a edge building in it. There was a storm of emotions playing across her face, leaking into her voice, “Howe has already taken too much from me.”

She could see the surprise running across Eamon’s face at the choice of the Warden’s words. Erlina and Alistair seemed to be the only two that had an idea about just what Elissa meant by that. 

Clasping the letter in her hand, she could feel that same anger starting to build in the pit of her stomach. Had much had Howe taken from her? Her Family, her home, all her friends and now he held Anora captive for whatever reason. 

“What do you plan to do then, Warden? Charge and fight your way through waves of Howe’s men? It would be a suicide mission.” Eamon’s eyes had settled on Elissa now, studying the woman quite closely. 

He was no stranger to the rumors that surrounded Elissa and Anora. He never actually had proof to bring to Cailan but seeing Elissa’s response, he wondered what Anora had written in that letter. 

That careful tap on her anger were leaking out at Eamon’s words and tone. Her eyes settling on the floor, her hands curling into fists. How long had she dreamed of facing Howe? How much blood was on the man’s hands? He had to pay for this crimes, Anora’s blood would not be added to that. 

Elissa’s eyes turned from the floor and back to the Arl, hissing as she spoke, “She is the Queen of this Kingdom. Surely there are some nobles that still respect that. Not on top of that fact that it’s the right thing to do even if she wasn’t the sovereign leader of this nation.”

Elissa stood from her chair, facing Eamon with burning eyes, “Howe has taken too much. He has burnt my home, slaughtered my Family and calls Highever his  _ right _ . Anora is my friend, our Queen, do not stand here and play politics with her life. Don’t you  dare.”

Silence filled the room as Alistair approached Elissa. Placing a gentle hand on her shoulder to calm her down and namely to stop her from saying something that might tell her biggest secret, 

“Elissa is right, Eamon. No matter the truth about Loghain there are still many that respect his name and legacy, if we had Anora, his own daughter to speak out against him, we can pass through the Landsmeet without a bloodbath.” 

“We don’t  know what Howe plans to do with her. “ Eamon attempted to reason. 

It caused Decker to snort and send a glare in Eamon’s direction, “She is the Queen, she’s being held captive by her own subjects. Are you really attempting to play games here? No matter what you feel about her, I swear here and now on the Maker, her life is in danger. Even if Loghain doesn’t know it, Howe is a twisted little creature.”

“And what do you expect to do, Warden? March through the City with what forces? Lay siege to the estate to steal back the Queen?” Eamon crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the edge of his desk. Ignoring Decker. 

“I know of way,” Erlina started, bringing the eyes of the room back to the elven maid, “Before I became the handmaiden to Her Majesty I worked at the Arl of Denerim’s estate. There is large back garden with a servant entrance we used often. It’s our best chance to sneak inside.”

“And if it doesn’t go to plan and the guards become alerted to us?” Duran’s hands stroked through his black beard. 

Elissa had remained silent from her first outburst, attempting to control the emotions that were moving through her, “We need a distraction. Something to turn the eyes of the guards away.”

Silence filled the room as all eyes turned to the Arl. Eamon seemed to know that he was beaten for the moment and took the careful moments of silence to pick his words.

“If you think this the best course of action, Warden, there are numerous Lords and Ladies already in the City. Give me a few hours to spread the news that the Queen has been taken captive by her own Father to Howe’s estate and they will be lining up outside screaming for Howe to give her up.” 

“I have more than a few contacts in the City Guard. I can make sure if violence breaks out, they will protect the correct people.” Decker offered, his hands looping through his sword belt. 

“Howe is not crazed enough to openly attack the nobility but if you were there along them speaking out, it might sway even more to speak out.” Eamon gave a smile and nod towards the former guard colonel. 

“That was the idea the Queen had in mind. I am not good at politics but I’ll do as you ask, Arl.” Decker didn’t seemed all that pleased with having to work with Eamon after the conversation they just had. 

“It doesn't matter how we get in, it’ll be the same once we get inside. We kill everyone and anyone stand stands between us. Duran, tell Wynne and Zevran to get ready,” Elissa mused out loud before nodding in agreement. 

A frown graced Alistair’s features, “Leaving me behind?”

“It’s for the best, Alistair. No matter what happens, you’re still Maric’s son and of his bloodline.” Eamon offered a smile in Elissa’s direction as the party started to move out of the study. 

Duran and Elissa walked through the quiet hallways of the Arl’s estate, heading to their respective rooms to get ready, “What do you think Eamon is playing at?”

Duran noticed the slight shaking in Elissa’s hands. A part of him regretted showing her the way of the Dwarven Beskers it seemed to only make the woman even more prone to violent outbursts. 

The dwarf’s voice seemed to knock Elissa out of whatever she was thinking off, looking down and over towards Duran, “He wants me and Alistair to marry.”

Duran snorted and shook his head, “He wants Alistair on the throne.”

“Obviously. Alistair is inexperienced when it comes to politics of this Kingdom. He’s a good man and I do think he could make a good King but with Eamon right behind him, it would be Eamon wearing the Crown.” 

“You are not wrong, I don’t think. Eamon hopes to push Alistair onto the throne one way or another. He looked pained to offer help saving the Queen from Howe.”

Elissa fell silent once more when they arrived at the door to her room. That look in her eyes returning as she tried to control her breathing, “Every moment, every nightmare of that night, and it all comes down to this. I am going to kill him, Duran.”

Duran could only nod, watching Elissa disappear behind her door and ready herself for this.

* * *

 

_ They were fully encircled. Miles from Ostagar, cut off from any relief and supplies. Fergus was sure the King already thought him and his men were died. A part of Fergus wondering if this was all some part of a greater plot to get rid of the heir of Highever.  _

_ The 700 men he had taken on scouting were barely holding together. The wagons had long been overturned to form a tight ring around their camp. Stakes and pits having been created to keep the darkspawn from overrunning them with sheer numbers.  _

_ Any messanger they sent out to get word back to the King never returned and Fergus knew he was on his own.  _

_ They were nearly out of clean water and Fergus didn’t trust the river nearby. The darkspawn had been throwing their dead to blight the only fresh water in the area.  _

_ The archers were running low on arrows, the horses were dropping dead from the strain of combat, the men were starving, Fergus needed a mircale.  _

_ His own body felt weak, he ate no more than what his men had. The heavy silver armor straining his already worn muscles. With only a few hours of sleep a night from the never ending attacks from the darkspawn, his eyes were barely open.  _

_ Looking out over the wagon fort, Fergus was pulled from his thoughts by a male’s voice speaking at him, “Your Grace.” _

_ Ser Cedric was one of the few highborn knights left alive with the scouting party. A man entering his mid 40’s with short ginger hair hidden by the steel helm he wore.  _

_ “Your Grace, we can’t hold  for much longer. The darkspawn have pulled back for the moment, we must leave this place.” The knight’s voice was almost pleading. _

_ “Has there been no word?” _

_ “Still none, Your Grace. We have to do something.”  _

_ Fergus’s silver armor was long stained. The fur lined Cousland blue collar around his neck and shoulders was covered in mud and dried Darkspawn blood. His eyes met the knight’s from over the short distance, “Pull the men back from the wagons.” _

_ “Your Grace, we will be over…” _

_ “I know what I said. Pull them back to the center. Mounted in front, archers in the middle, infantry on the sides. We’re going to break this encirclement.” _

_ “But of the wounded?” _

_ Fergus moved his helmet onto his head and tighten the strap underneath his chin, “Put them in the middle of the formation. The ones we can’t save, end their suffering.” _

_ Cedric stared at him but nodded his head slowly, “It’ll be done, Your Grace.” _

_ It didn’t take long for the men to be pulled back from their makeshift walls. Fergus stood mounted at the front with Cedric and the other knights up front. The forest had grown silent since the Highever force had pulled away from their walls. A deep breath before the storm that was to come.  _

_ Slamming his visor down, he drew the silverite longsword from his hip. Rumbling coming from the woods as another darkspawn assault prepared itself to test the Cousland wagon fort. His hand clasped the hilt tightly, eyes staring out the small slit of his visor.  _

_ He could see the first dark shadows approaching from the tree line. Only a few a first but with each passing second another and then another and then another would appear. Before long the entire treeline surrounding the camp was covered in the different shapes and sizes of the darkspawn.  _

_ Their snarling could be heard all the way from ontop of his horse. The skin covered drums of the beasts echoing through the forests of the Wilds.  _

_ Fergus’s heartbeat reached all the way up to his ears. Over the sound of the snarls and the drums before finally he lifted his sword up into the air, “Charge! Now! Follow the Cousland Banner!” _

_ Fergus kicked his feet into the sides of his horse. The few men out in front dropping the first few wagons to make enough room for the formation to charge out of the wagon fort.  _

_ At around the same time, the Darkspawn lines charged from all around the wagon fort. Fergus knew that less than a few hundred would make it out alive but this was their only chance to break out.  _

_ The spear formation of the cavalry slammed into the charging Darkspawn, not stopping as Fergus lead them forward. The archers and infantry attempted to keep up and stay in formation as the line between the cavalry and the rest of the formation grew larger.  _

_ Fergus only sent one look over his shoulder at the black mass that was now covering the wagon fort before turning back and urging his horse on faster.  _

_ Maker forgive him for what he had to do.  _

Fergus’s head slowly came back through again. The sounds and noises of the tavern bringing him back from the depths of his memories. How many men had he left in Ostagar? How many thousand men had died fighting for the King and their Teryn?

A heavy hood covered his face. Gilmore sat straight across from him with a few other of their own men stationed at different spots across the tavern. Beside the Cousland Loyalists there were only a few other souls in the tavern. All of them knowing to turn a blind eye to the men in the corner. 

“She should've been here by now.” Gilmore mumbled into his ale. 

“Worried about our trusted elf?” Fergus teased from under his hood. 

“I know she can handle herself. This business out of Highever is what has me worried.” The former knight admitted in a low voice, catching Fergus’s eyes from underneath the hood. 

“If there’s one thing he hates, it’s the thought of a Cousland coming back to claim Highever. He knows they’re true, it’s the only reason he would be trying to put an end to this finally.“

Gilmore snorted and grunted in agreement, “Lord Mac Richter sent a wrapped pile of his own shit in response to Howe’s raven.”

“Aye and those survivors are doing good work in spreading the rumor wider of my return. All we need is House Becker on our side. His forces have stayed out of the fighting for both sides.”

“Not that bloody cunt.” Gilmore groaned into his ale. 

“We need his men if we’re going to take Highever.” 

Before Gilmore could answer the door to the tavern opened and a slim figured walked towards the two men at the back table. Moving her hood off her head as she took her seat, blonde hair was tied back into a single braid, crystal blue eyes looking in between the men. 

Iona had been forced that night to fight for her life. Surviving thanks to the assistance of Gilmore, Iona shredded off the mantle of a lady-in-waiting and became the loyalists spymaster. No one would've ever think twice about seeing another Elf in serving clothes running back and forth. 

“The Houses of Amaranthine are starting to come into Highever. Last I heard West Hill and Waking Sea are ignoring the call to arms. Thomas plans to burn the Bannorns.” 

Fergus shook his head from under his hood, “Alfstanna and Franderel are probably halfway to the Landsmeet.” 

“What I don’t get is why that cunt is even trying to call men to his banner when every Lord of any standing is heading to the Capital.” Gilmore gave a small nod at Iona after taking a sip from his mug. 

“The eyes are on the Capital not here. Knowing what type of human Thomas Howe is, he plans to kill anyone that doesn’t bend the knee.” Iona said rather simply, eyes glancing in between the two men. 

“I told you we should've killed all the survivors. We’re not ready to take on Howe’s forces head on.”

Fergus reminded quiet for a few long moments, sending a glance the redhead’s way before turning to Iona, “How many do they have? Roughly?”

“Nearly 4,000. Knotwood Hills and Wending Woods making up the most of that. The other forces are still spread apart. Another 4,000 roughly. But the other Houses that pledged their support for the Howes when this all started are starting to doubt those oaths.” 

“Fucking Aurelius and Marcus. His favorite hounds.” Gilmore grumbled once more into his ale, taking a long swig of the brownish liquid. 

“Disagreement in the ranks?” Fergus mused out loud, scratching his chin from underneath his hood. 

“Arl Howe never leaves the Capital and Thomas is unstable. If I would guess, it’s something along the lines of becoming done with the Howes.”

“Now is the time to finally say that I still live then. We can rally the peasants to us that have suffered under Thomas’s rule.” 

“Or it causes Howe to march straight across Highever to find you and butcher all of us before we’re ready.” Iona reasoned, placing her smaller hand over his and squeezing it tightly. 

Fergus’s eyes settled onto the table, his head dipping to hide his face from view. All three of them knew how much Fergus wished to scream to the masses that the Couslands were still fighting for Highever. With Elissa never stepping foot in Highever since becoming a Grey Warden, some Lords thought the Couslands were truly done. 

“Gilmore, how many men can we rally?”

The ginger became silent as he moved back and forth, struggling, “1,000 from the Highlands. Perhaps another 1,000 from the Stormcoast and from the Houses along the northern road if we were lucky. If we were able to sway House Becker, they have 500 men alone. Without Waking Sea and West Hills, we’re up stream without a paddle..” 

Fergus nodded, pleased they at least had that, “We need something to even out Highever’s defenses. Laying siege would be too big with the few forces we have. If there anyway we could sway those Houses doubting their oaths to the Howes?” 

Iona shook her head, “Doubtful, at least not yet. If we were able to capture Highever they would bend. Though, I do have an idea on taking Highever itself. Thomas is hosting a feast for all Lords coming to his banners. A sort of celebration for his upcoming victory.”

Both Fergus and Gilmore shared a look with each other before looking back to the Elf, “Can we get our people in?”

Iona nodded her head, “All we need is the Keep and Thomas’s head. Our best men can be smuggled into the Castle and into Highever itself. Wait for the partying to run its course, capture the Keep and open the gates to Highever.”

“His supporters will flee and the others will come to our banners.” 

Fergus nodded in agreement at both of his advisors, “We head to Ashworth. Lord Becker is many things but he was loyal to my Father. With him we can finally put an end to this all.” 

Gilmore lifted his mug of ale up, “Goireas gu bràth.”

* * *

 

With her own armor ruined and the next set still being crafted, Elissa was forced to use a spare set they had kept for cases like this. Not as the same high quality of the one Eamon had given her when they woke him from his coma, but she prayed it would get the job done for what was to come. 

Positioned on a side street near Howe’s estate, even from their distance they could hear the chanting of the nobles and other persons that had come once the news spread that the Queen was being held against her will. 

It was nearly time to begin. 

With the sun starting to set and dusk upon them, the last rays of sun were shining across the rooftops of the City. Duran. Zevran, Wynne and Erlina all stood by, waiting for the sun to set fully to allow the darkness to take hold. 

Elissa had been more quiet than her usual self since leaving Eamon’s study earlier that day. The Cousland had always been a quiet type through their travels but now she stared forward, her hand gripping the hilt of Starfang. 

Duran could only wonder how many months Elissa had thought of this moment to now only be a few steps away from it. His own mind remembering the fight in the Assembly chamber when his own brother attempted to kill them all to take the throne. 

Duran cried all the same that night for his little brother. But the dwarf had the feeling that wasn’t what Elissa wanted to hear at the moment. 

Elissa’s head snapped to one of the smaller alleyways that emptied out into the road they stood on. Drawing Starfang, her head snapped in time to see two Elven servants peeking out from the alleyway. 

Erlina whispered in low tones with the two servants before the two disappeared again and Elrina turned back to the four, “It’s time. There’s only a few guards in the back path we’re taking.”

Elissa nodded and slipped her helm onto her head. The burgonet styled helm lacked any visor compared to the ones she was used to wearing, “You lead the way, I’ll be behind you. Zevran behind me, Wynne in the middle and Duran get the rear.”

The dwarf pushed himself off the wall and nodded. Moving his long handle axe from his resting on his shoulder and into either hand. Zevran shared a look with the elder mage  but none of them had the courage to ask if Elissa was alright going in. 

The group moved as quietly as they could. The only true sound coming from the shifting metal on Elissa’s body. The path was narrow  with buildings hugging tight on the either side until they came to the wall that hugged around the estate. There was a cast iron door that was built into the stone wall. Behind seemed to be the rest of the path that lead onto the estate’s grounds.

The lock and chain rested on the floor, someone had left it unlocked for them. 

“This is the entrance to the gardens.” Erlina whispered over her shoulder to Elissa. The maid creaked the gate open and followed the path forward. 

In contrast to the dark cobblestone path they came from, the gardens of the Arl’s estate were brightly colored with a stone path. Trees, flowers and roses bushes grew in tightly controlled plots. 

There was no sign of anyone as the group moved low to the ground. There was the sounds of the group near the gates yelling but that seemed to be the only sound they could hear. Hugging the wall of the estate, they passed through the side garden without any issue. 

Peeking over the edge of the wall, Erlina tore her head back, whispering back to Elissa, “I see two. A dozen feet away.”

Elissa motioned for Erlina to switch positions with her, the Warden now peeking her head out slightly. The two guards didn’t seem to know they were right around the corner from them. Their backs to the wall the group was currently hiding behind and whispering to each other. 

A smart person would of simply of just sneaked around. 

Before anyone could speak, Elissa moved away from the wall and took several long strides towards the guards. 

The two men didn’t start to turn around before Elissa was already too close. Starfang ripped the air slashing vertically along one of the guard’s thinly protected calves. In the same motion as the other guard turned his head and attempted to draw his weapon Elissa twisted her wrists in a fluid motion to slam the starmetal into the guard’s unprotected skull. 

She then turned her body and stabbed the blade forward to slice through the wounded guard’s throat, killing both of the guards with the short exchange. 

Elissa’s used her foot to push the dead body of the guard off of her blade and looked over her shoulder where the others stood, “Let’s move."

Leaving the bodies in the path, Erlina moved back up to lead alongside Elissa. The Warden could feel their eyes on her but now wasn’t the time. A part of her wished she came alone for this, a part of her couldn’t bare the stares. 

But the louder part of her, it cried for blood. 

“The door that leads to the kitchens are usually guarded. That is the only way inside of the estate proper.” Erlina whispered over towards Elissa while the group hugged the wall of the estate. 

“We’ll take care of them.”

It was only a short walk along the wall of the estate before Erlina motioned off to take one of the smaller side paths that crossed over through the gardens. Following after the elf, she lead them around away from the estate before the path they walked started to cut back towards the building. 

The path spat out to a large clearing where they could clearly see a door with two guards next to it. With the moon out, Elissa and the party were able to hide without being seen behind the bushes and plants of the garden. 

“That is our way in, Warden. If you allow it, I think I can distract them and lead them away.” The maid whispered out, leaving the rest of avoiding unneeded bloodshed unsaid. 

“Zevran, Duran. Take them out.” Elissa ignored Erlina and motioned for the two to come forth. 

Elissa missed the look the dwarf and elf shared. Zevran notched an arrow into his bow while Duran moved a throwing axe from his belt into his right hand. 

The usual banter between the two was gone from the moment. They took their time moving out of the hiding spot, allowing them a better view sight for their attack. Neither were any stranger to violence and killing but for Duran at least, trying to spare some was the only thing that kept him sane. 

They took only a few passing moments to take their aim. Duran moving his arm back behind the side of his head while Zevran brought the bow up and drew the string back behind his ear. Together, the arrow and throwing axe were released and hurled through the air. The axe cleaved through the upper chest of one guard while the arrow struck right through the other’s adam’s apple. 

The dead guards slumped against the wall of the estate. Large pools of blood start to form underneath them. Zevran notched another arrow into his bow while Duran stood up. The other three moved from the hiding spot. 

Elissa took the lead now, opening the door and walking into one of the kitchen backrooms. There was a number of Elven servants hunched over at different workstations. From chopping meats to cooking at stove tops. 

At the center of it was a human elder woman, with white hair chopped short and holding a large wooden spoon in her hand, “The Arl wants his dinner now! I swear I’ll skin you little knife-ears alive.”

Elissa didn’t think twice to begin to walk closer to the screaming woman. Hearing the door opening and then shutting behind her, the master of the kitchen turned in time to see Elissa holding Starfang within striking distance. 

“And who the fuck are you? I’ll call the..” Whatever the woman was going to say was stopped short with Elissa thrusting the blade into her stomach all the way to the hilt. The elder woman’s mouth begun to pool with blood, a short groan of pain coming from the sudden powerful thrust. 

Elissa didn’t feel anything watching the life leave the woman’s eyes. Only a coldness that had set into her bones since they arrived at the estate. Twisting the blade out, the dead woman dropped in a heap at her feet. The elves looking back and forth, a few fearful faces reaching for kitchen knives. 

“Go, now. Your master will be dead by midnight.” 

A long moment of silence passed before the servants started to rush pass Elissa. One paused near the Warden, speaking in a rushed breath, “A group of 10 guards are just outside eating. Most of them are outside near the gates.”

Elissa only gave a short nod in return watching as the last of the servants left the estate. Relaxing Starfang in her right hand, the Warden walked over to the door she assumed lead out into the main eating hall. 

The door was already cracked, allowing Elissa to peek a eye through the crack and saw the guards still in their own conversations eating from their meals. Scanning over the mess hall one more time, Elissa then moved away from the door and back to the others. 

“Zevran, the firebomb.”

“Surely there is another way around. Burning men on their breaks is unnecessary.” Wynne’s voice sounded gentle, the older woman taking a small step closer to Elissa. 

Elissa ignored the elder healer. Taking a step to where Zevran stood, she stretched out her left hand. The elf kept Elissa’s stare for several long seconds, perhaps hoping that she wouldn’t go along with this. 

“There’s no other way forward.” Erlina commented from the back. 

Duran only shook his head in response. 

“When has it ever mattered who we killed? They serve Howe, they serve the man responsible for me even being here. They will die all the same,” Elissa hissed out, her eyes narrowing at Zevran, “Since when has mercy ever been a part of being a Crow.”

The words visibly stung at Zevran. The elf shaking his head, “You were the one that taught me that.” 

If Elissa was in the right state of mind, Zevran’s words should've cut into her, but the Warden was fueled by own one thing now. Knowing it was a lost battle, Zevran placed the bomb into Elissa’s hand. 

Wynne refused to be the one that lite it, moving Starfang back to the sheath on her hip, Elissa produced a box of matches she kept for this type of situations. Positioning herself behind the door once more, she lit the match against the wall and then moved the match to the fuse on the bomb. 

With the fuse being burnt now, Elissa kicked open the door and tossed the firebomb into one of the large tables. As the glass lyrium infused bomb smack and broke against the table, the firestorm inside was freed. 

As the bomb left Elissa’s hand, she gripped the door and slammed it shut. Through the wood of the door they could hear the screams of the burning guards. Several long seconds passed while the group listened to the burning men. Finally the screams stopped and Elissa eased the door open. 

Drawing Starfang from her hip once more, Elissa entered the half burnt mess hall. Several charred bodies surrounded the close blast zone from the bomb. The rest of the bodies suffered from terrible and extreme burns. 

The screams from the mess hall attracted guards from elsewhere in the estate. A group of three came to investigate the noise to find Elissa standing in the middle of the charred and burnt bodies. 

“What the hell…” One of them mumbled out loud. 

The man’s mumbling brought Elissa and party back to reality, snapping to action. Zevran had his bow up and an arrow sent flying as Duran and Elissa charged at the guards.

Adding another three bodies to their growing body count, a long hallway ran the length that lead to the main entrance. With several doors on either side that must of been other rooms there seemed to be no more guards for the moment. 

Anora could be anywhere in the estate. 

“Where do you think they’re holding her?” Elissa whispered down to Erlina. 

The small elven maid took her time to think before answering as if afraid of saying the wrong thing to Elissa, “Follow this hallway down and then take a right. That’s where the Arl’s chambers were and rooms for the Family.”

“He’ll want to keep her separate from the rest of the estate.” Elissa nodded in agreement. 

The Warden lead the way down the hallway, the doors to the rooms on either side were open to allow them a quick glance inside. The rooms at this section seemed to function at the barracks for the guards that patrolled the estate. Each rack was empty, luckily. 

When they passed near the main entrance, they could hear the yelling even through the thick oak doors. The nobles still held the guard’s attention, making the second half of their infiltration still easy. 

Elissa took the doorway to the right and immediately to their left was another entry way. A blue magical shield of sorts warded the door that stood just beyond the entry way. Elissa shared a look with Erlina, the two moving closer to the blue shield. 

Elissa lead with her left hand, the tips of her gloved fingers attempting to the touch the shield, but her movement forward was stopped by the magical force. Whatever it was, it was stopping them from opening the door. 

“Is someone there?”

Elissa’s eyes went wide at the sound of Anora’s voice. 2 years without hearing it and there she was, just beyond the door. Stunned into a moment of silence, Erlina spoke to answer the Queen, “Yes, Your Majesty. It’s Erlina, I have brought the Warden.”

“Elissa? Are you there? Please don’t let this be another of Howe’s games.”

Elissa could see Erlina motioning for her to speak, the Warden stumbling over her words, “Ah, eh, yes.”

“Where was the cabin we were trapped in at when you visited Gwaren?”

The question made Elissa pause, did Anora not believe she would actually come for her? What had Howe done to her to make her so paranoid of anyone offering help? It was such a vague question to anyone else but to Elissa she knew what Anora meant, a question that only she could answer. 

“A few hours ride out of the City of Gwaren. Near a pond you found.” 

“Oh by the Maker,  _ Elissa.  _ You came for me.” 

It was obvious to anyone there that emotion that came from the Queen’s voice just from saying the Warden’s name. Almost a breathless sigh, as if Anora didn’t truly believe Elissa would come all this way to save her. And holding an underlying tone that didn’t sound like long lost friends meeting again. 

Elissa’s head dip, her cheeks tinting red from even under the cool metal of her helm. She couldn’t do this right now, not with all the emotions rushing through her. The very voice of Anora sending memories flashing before her eyes, every stolen moment of their love. Overshadowed by that it was Howe that had nearly taken that from her like how he had taken everything else from her. 

That anger mixed with the feeling in her stomach from Anora was driving Elissa even more into different directions. 

“I’ll always be there to save you.” Elissa’s voice came out hoarse, almost on the verge of tears. After all the pain she had felt in the past months, there was Anora, just on the other side of the door. Even with two years apart, with Loghain trying to kill her, those feelings came back stronger than ever. She needed to hold her. 

Looking away from the door to catch the eyes of the rest of her party. Each seemed to want to say something to her, to ask if she was okay. 

Elissa needed to pull herself together, now wasn’t the time for this breakdown. 

“Howe has a mage. To keep me from slipping out he cast a ward over my door. Only he can get rid it, or kill him.”

“Wynne, can you try?” Elissa called over her shoulder, stepping to the side to allow the mage room. 

The healer’s hands started to glow a dark blue color in contrast to the light blue hue of the ward. Wynne bent her head and started to chant under her breath, hands moving in small circles. 

“It would take time to break the ward. It’s powerful, extremely powerful. I can taste the off scent of blood magic on it. Similar to the ones we faced at the Circle.” Wynne explained as she brought her hands back down, the glowing stopping. 

“He’s a Tevinter, the mage with Howe. His name is Atticus I believe.” Anora’s voice explained through the door once more. 

“Does Howe have an entire cult of mages working for him? First Cyprian now this one.” Duran mused out loud, looking in between the members of the party. 

Elissa eyes went wide, speaking in the same quiet tone from before, “Anora, a..are you alright?”

Everyone listening seemed to know what Elissa was asking in between the lines. The long silence that followed Elissa’s question told them what they needed to know. 

“I will survive.”

Elissa only saw red. Her right hand tightening around Starfang’s hilt as that anger became uncontrollable. Her left hand shook uncontrollably, curling it into a fist. She could see Erlina taking a step away from her and placing her back against the wall. 

How much has Howe taken from her? How much will he take?

Elissa turned away without another word, heading back out into the hallway and going the way they didn’t go. She could hear Erlina saying she would stay behind with Anora while the rest attempted to keep up with Elissa. 

Everything that came next was only a blur. There were actually people in this wing of the estate. Elissa made no attempt to pretend she was not coming, the loud steps of her metal armor shifting echoed off the stone hallway. 

One well dressed man came out from one of the rooms just as Elissa begun to pass. The only sound that was able to leave his lips was the gutted scream of pain as Starfang sliced across his face, the metal cleaving his right eye socket open. 

“Howe! Fight me, Howe! Where are you hiding, Great Arl of Denerim, Arl of Armatherine! Fight!” Elissa screamed through the hall, bringing even more attention to her and her struggling companions. 

Another door flung open, a guard commander stumbling out, one hand holding onto the shaft of a spear. She surged at Elissa but the Warden was faster. Elissa twisted her body and brought Starfang down to break the shaft of the spear. 

And in the same motion, brought the sword upwards, cleaving into the woman's jaw and collapsing the entire underside of her face. 

Elissa was breathing hard, reaching the end of the hallway and taking the door to the left. The door was unlock allowing Elissa into what must've been Howe’s private bedchambers. 

It was what one would imagine a bedchamber to a wealthy Lord looked like. With a large four poster bed, the finest wood furnishes. It didn’t take Elissa long to find what was off in the room. It was too perfect, too clean. And above all else, straight across from the bed was a woman chained to the wall. 

There was no one else in the room and Elissa was beginning to think that the woman was already dead. She could hear the others mumbling behind her at the sight. The Warden inched closer to the woman, blonde hair was dirty and covered in dirt and Maker knew what else. 

She only wore a thin rags around her small frame, pale and obviously starved to the point of near death. It wasn’t until Elissa was right in front of her that did the Warden notice the shallow and gentle moving of the prisoner's chest.

At this distance now too, she could see the pointed ears and sharp facial features befitting someone of Elf blood. 

“Another trick.” The woman’s voice was no higher than a whisper. Elissa could feel the heat in her stomach cooling, her head becoming clear once more, the throbbing stopping. Only a coldness set in now. 

“Not a trick.” Elissa’s voice came out surprisingly soft for just screaming her way through half of the estate. She bent to a knee and rested Starfang to the side, attempting to get a look at the woman’s face without touching her, “Where is Howe?”

“No. No, another trick. I’ll be good, please I’ll be good. I don’t want to go downstairs again.” The woman was crying now, her body shaking hard. The sounds of the chains moving echoed through the bedroom, the woman attempting to hug the wall and put distance between her and Elissa. 

“My name is Elissa Cousland, I am not here to hurt you.” Elissa kept her distance, fearing that if she tried to move closer to the prisoner, she would scare her off. 

That seemed to stop the woman, Elissa could see bright blue eyes looking through strands of blonde hair, “C..Cousland? He says that name when he..”

Elissa didn’t wish to know what the woman meant by that. A wide range of possibilities moving through her head. 

Elissa looked over her shoulder and motioned for the others to search the room. Duran took his spot next to the door they entered from while Zevran moved his bow back to his back and drew his twin long daggers. Wynne hovered behind Elissa, knowing her services were going to be needed soon enough. 

“What is your name?”

“My..my name..,?” The woman trailed off, “He..he calls me Pet.”

Elissa felt her stomach threatening to turn, slowly being reminded of their dark dive into the Deep Roads and the secrets around Brood Mothers. 

“No, before you came here, who were you?”

The woman began to panic, shaking her head wildly, “No. Trick, a trick. He..he said to never use that name.” 

Elissa shared a look with Wynne, the elder woman sighing loudly and shaking her head. 

“He’s not here, it’s okay. It’s only me and my friends. We’re not here to hurt you.” Elissa decided to tempt fate and very slowly moved her glove off her right hand. Going to present it in front of the woman before brushing strands of blonde hair behind the elf’s ear. 

“K..K..Kallian. Tabris. Kallian Tabris.” Kallian stuttered, shaking at first when she saw Elissa’s hand but not stopping her from brushing her hair back. 

“Kallian, where is he?”

The elven woman motioned with her head in the direction Zevran had gone, “D..down there. Where he keeps the bad ones he plays with.”

Coming from the direction Kallian had just pointed to, Zevran appeared in the doorway with a man limping next to him. Arms thrown around each other shoulders, Wynne snapped into action and made her way to help Zevran. 

“Another one, Elissa. And a large sealed door.” With Wynne’s help they placed the man onto the edge of the bed, grunting in pain as they did. 

Zevran came to crouch down next to Elissa allowing the Warden to move over to the other man. Elissa noticed that Kallian seemed to be uneasy around Zevran, becoming silent once more and hugging the wall. 

Wynne’s blue glowing hands were going to work on the man’s right leg. It was then Elissa noticed the blue griffon sigil on the man’s leather armor, “A Warden?”

The man grunted in pain when the loud sound of a bone back popped back into place echoed through the room. Taking several long breaths Wynne stood away, “Only a broken leg from what I can tell. Howe must of not taken his time with this one.”

Finally the man was able to speak, “My name is Riordan. I am a Senior Grey Warden sent from Orlais to investigate what was happening. I didn’t get far as you can see.” 

Outside of the few dozen Wardens Elissa had met all the way back at Ostagar, this was the first true one she had met in months, “How did Howe get you?”

“I came to Denerim, they must of knew that I was coming or news spread along the streets. I was cornered by his Household guards and brought here. I don’t know how much time had passed since then.” Taking a breath to steady himself, Riordan carefully stood on shaking legs, not used once more to have both legs in working order. 

“I know you have questions Warden Elissa but here isn’t the place.”

Elissa turned back to where Kallian still laid chained to the wall. Riordan seemed to notice her stare and shook his head. 

Ignoring the man’s look, Elissa made her back back to Kallian, “Shield your eyes, I am going to break the locks.”

The elf gave a whimper but did as she was told. Waiting until Kallian was protected, Elissa swung Starfang into either lock. The powerful starmetal cleaving through the rusty iron chains after a few swings on each, “Zevran help her up.”

“Riordan, follow the way we came with Kallian here. At the end of the hallway you’ll find a elven maid named Erlina. Tell her that I sent you there. From there you can wait for us or she can give you directions to Arl Eamon’s estate. You will both be safe there.” Elissa removed one of her long daggers from her belt and placed the hilt into Riordan’s hand. 

“We’ll meet you at Eamon’s estate. Thank you, Warden.” Riordan gave her nod and went to gently take Kallian’s hand. The elf woman acted like a deer knowing the hunter was watching. 

Elissa walked next to Riordan going to gently brush the woman’s hair back again, something the elf seemed to find comforting coming from Elissa at least, “This is Riordan. He’s like me, a Warden, good person. He was held captive here by Howe also. He’s going to lead you to a safe place, I’ll be there soon.”

Elissa held Kallian’s blue eyes, trying to sound as comforting and less threatening she could. Finally the elf nodded and allowed Riordan to lead her off. 

Elissa slipped her glove back onto her hand and recovered Starfang from where she left it. Twirling the blade, she made for the large sealed door. She wasn’t loud like before, all three of them could feel the shift in Elissa’s aura. 

A nearly calm will to kill Howe replaced the blind rage from before. None of them knew what was more frightening, a screaming murderous Elissa or a silent murderous Elissa. 

“Wynne, melt the lock.” Elissa called over her shoulder.

If it had not been for the their dive into the Deep Roads and fighting hordes of Blood Mages, even Wynne would’ve been shaken from the state Kallian was in. Howe had not only physically tortured her but mentally. Maker knew what type of damage Wynne would have attempt to heal. 

Her hands sparked to life with blue flames, the mage motioning for the others to stand back before twisting her palms up, a large spray of mage fire being sent at the door. There was a loud popping soon as the lock and nearly half of the door was melted off from the strength of the spell Wynne had cast. 

Holding Starfang in her right hand, Elissa removed a torch from the wall and lead the way down the black hallway. 

There was only a few lingering torches lining the walls of the dark dungeon. It didn’t take that long to start to feel the tell tale signs of Blood Magic in the air, like a stale taste sticking to their tongues. 

“What kind of man has his sodding bedroom connected to his dungeons.” Duran mumbled to himself, eyes scanning the dark walls of the hallway. 

There was the muffled screams coming from the nearest door they crossed by. Using the tip of Starfang, Elissa nudged the door open to find two men with their backs to the door and a third stretched out  on a torture rack. 

The loud sounds of the man’s bones being slowly popped and attempted to be stretched echoed through the room. The loud creaking sound that was given off when the door opened attracted the attention of the two torturers. 

Elissa crossed the distance while Zevran sent an arrow flying to one of them. The troch slammed into the other’s face followed swiftly by a quick stab from Starfang, the two torturers dropping dead from their wounds. 

Starfang sliced the ropes that kept the man on the rack tied down, the man curled into a tight ball, gentle sobs rocking his body. 

It was Wynne this time that approached the sobbing young man, placing a gentle hand onto his shoulder, “My name is Wynne, I am a Mage from the Circle. A healer.”

Slowly, the man’s body stopped it’s rocking and begun to calm. Green eyes peeked up from under large bushy brows, “O..Oswyn Dravich."

Elissa knew that name. House Dravich of Dragon’s Peak. Howe had dared to kidnap the child of one of the closest Banns to Denerim. The Warden slipped Starfang back into its sheath and moved closer to Oswyn and Wynne. 

She brought the torch close to Oswyn’s face, the man’s skin was pale, eyes pulled back into his skull. He had been here a long time from the scars that were stained into his body with careful planned hands. 

“Can you walk, Oswyn?” Elissa’s voice seemed to draw the man’s attention. His eyes going to stare at her helm covered head and face. 

“I..I think. Help me, please.” 

Wynne’s hands started to glow a soft blue color, hoovering them over Oswyn’s legs, slowly the man stopped his quiet sobbing, his legs becoming less swollen from Howe’s men. 

Both Wynne and Elissa went to either side of Oswyn while the man carefully swung his legs to the side of the rack. Placing his feet onto the ground and gripping both women, Oswyn carefully took a small step forward. 

Oswyn hissed in pain, an obvious limp in both of his legs. But he seemed able to walk slowly and using the wall for support, “Oswyn, take the path we just came from nice and slowly. The way is clear. Go through Howe’s room and head down the hallway, you’ll meet more help.” 

Wynne spoke gently into the boy’s ear, making slow progress to the door. 

Making sure Oswyn made it up the path that lead back to Howe’s bedroom, the group turned back to the way still in front of them.

The stale taste became stronger now, they passed only a few more of Howe’s men before they finally reached what must of been the end of the dungeons. Only a final door standing in front of them, Elissa could hear muffled voices coming from just beyond. 

Elissa thought in this moment she would be blinded with such a sense of vengeance that she wouldn’t know what she was about to do. Instead, it was a calm and knowing feeling, Howe was just beyond, and only one of them was leaving the room alive. 

It was nearly comforting. 

“I have Howe, kill the Mage as soon as there is an opening.” Elissa whispered out, taking a deep breath and moving her hand out to open the door. 

Pushing open the door, Elissa strolled into the last room. Similar to the other rooms, it was larger than the others. With a number of cells built into the back wall, another door leading off back to the entrance of the dungeon.

Two figures stood in the middle of the room, one being Howe himself and the other must of been the other Tevinter Blood Mage. 

The great Arl Howe had not changed much as Elissa remembered him. The same sneer on his face, the wrinkly pale skin, hooded eyes and crooked nose. She could remember her Father saying that Howe had once been a powerful figure in the rebellion. 

“ _ Elissa Cousland.” _ The Arl sneered at the woman, hands resting on the hilt of his dagger and axe head. 

With her right hand still gripping Starfang, she lifted her left up to pop her helmet off, tossing it to the side. Her wild auburn hair was pulled and tied off into a single braid,  “This is between me and you, this has always been between me and you. Call of your blood mage.”

Atticus snorted and stroked his short beard, “Feisty one isn’t she? Reminds me of the pet elf you have. Or at least what she was before.”

“Bryce’s little spitfire. At least I had the last laugh when I slammed my dagger into his gut. Do you remember that, little Elissa? The night I took what was mine. I had their bodies dragged through the streets and hung from the highest tree I could find. The mighty Sea Wolf and grand Lord of Highever swaying side by side in the wind.” Howe’s sneer twisted into a smirk. 

She knew the game that Howe was playing at but no matter what she could do, it had the effect he wanted. Flashes of her last seconds with her parents came to the forefront of her mind as she was dragged away screaming by Duncan. 

Howe’s hands drew his duel weapons from his hips, whatever Howe was expecting was quickly ended. Both Zevran and Duran sent a throwing dagger and axe straight towards the mage. The Tevinter’s arm was struck by Zevran’s dagger, but he was able to send a blast of air to rebound the axe to the wall. 

While the Mage was struggling to regain attention, Zevran and Duran advanced on him with Wynne following just behind. 

Howe’s eyes snapped to the side as Elissa approached closer to him. Enjoying every look of panic that crossed over Howe’s face. 

“Beg.”

Elissa’s voice echoed in the small room. Howe’s face twisting back into a sneer and lashing out at Elissa. Attempting to slash his dagger across Elissa’s ribcage, he swung his left arm across his body. Starfang’s blade easily parried it, sending Howe’s left arm across his body and using the moment to her advantage, Elissa slashed across Howe’s stomach. 

The sword cleaved through the harden leather Howe wore, the man dropping his weapons to clasp his hand over the wound. 

Around her Elissa could see the others going to surround the blood mage. Using his own blood that dripped from the knife wound, Atticus’s left arm became covered in moving wisps and strands of red. 

If there was one thing Wynne had become skilled at since meeting the Warden, it was dealing with Blood Mages. Her staff began to glow a bright blue color, her hands gripping the staff in both hands. 

Zevran and Duran surrounded the Mage, Atticus scanning in between the three as Wynne placed the glowing head of her staff underneath his chin, “Be smart here.”

_ “Beg.” _ Elissa said again, jaw clenched. Starfang’s tip came to rest underneath Howe’s chin, forcing the old man to look up at Elissa.

“Do you feel like a  _ Hero yet? _ ” The man hissed out, turning his head to spit up a mouthful of blood. 

The hot red anger flashed before Elissa’s eyes. Growling loudly, sounding much like one of the werewolves that had been hunting the Elves, Elissa brought her left fist to slam across Howe’s face. 

There was something so primal and enjoyable feeling Howe’s skin break against her studded leather glove. Dropping the grip on Starfang, the sword clattered to the ground while her right hand connected with the other side of Howe’s face. 

After that everything became a blur. Over and over again her hands pounded into Howe’s face. His screams and cries of pain was drown out by the memories flashing before Elissa. Every happy memory with her parents, at Highever. Every memory that had been tainted the night Howe slaughtered her Family. 

She swore she could hear her Father whispering in her ear,  _ ‘Let go.’ _

She knew she was crying but it didn’t matter. Howe had doubled over from the force of Elissa’s strikes. Howe was already long dead but Elissa couldn’t stop. Sitting onto of Howe, her fists came coming. Breaking and shattering bone, slicing through flesh. Blood sprayed the front of Elissa’s body and face. 

If Elissa was of the right mind, she would hear the others starting to leave the room. Wynne not being able to watch the bloody scene, Zevran going to look after the elder mage and dragged Atticus behind him. The only one that stayed was Duran, silently watching over the blood mage and Elissa. 

It only drove her further and further until Elissa’s punching started to slow. 

Leaning back onto her hind legs, Elissa let out a loud scream from the top of her lungs, her breaths coming out labored, as if she just ran for hours on end. 

Before her was what was left of Howe. His entire head had been caved in from the force of Elissa’s strikes. Only a bloody stump and a bit of neck was left of the Arl’s head. 

Taking several deep breaths, Elissa blinked several times, feeling Howe’s blood starting to dry on her face. She glanced to the right and met Duran’s eyes, the dwarf holding her stare for a few moments before giving a small nod. 

Reaching over, she grasped Starfang’s hilt and used it to help her up onto her feet. Sound and color blurred around her, her head felt like it was spinning. Her tongue wetted her lips to only taste the copper taste of Howe’s blood on her. 

Behind her she heard the others reentering the room and all taking in the sight of what was left of Howe. Elissa flinched when she felt Wynne’s hand on her shoulder, roughly arching her shoulder away and turning to the blood mage. 

For Atticus’s credit, he tried his best to keep an emotionless face when Elissa turned her stare to him. Finding himself back up against the wall, he was a smart enough man not to attempt any escape plan on the Warden. 

He doubled over in pain when Elissa’s metal knee slammed into his stomach twice. Her blood and gore covered hand gripping the top of his clean shaved head, Starfang resting against his throat, “Why did Howe hire you and the others?”

Atticus did know when he was beaten, glancing in between from Starfang and to Elissa herself, he spoke, “He wanted a group to remove political targets for him. Myself and my brothers were approached months before the Blight even started. Anyone else we captured was sold into the slave trade.”

Moving the blade away from his throat, Elissa knew this wasn’t the place to question him. Twisting the pommel of the hilt, she slammed it twice into the side of Atticus’s forehead. Leaving a nasty gash and knocking the man out cold but he was still very much alive. 

Too many questions only rose from Atticus’s information. How long had Howe planned this? Who else was captured? Her eyes seemed to be drawn back to the bloody mess that was the former Arl. 

She knew the others were staring at her. She was standing in silence covered in blood staring at what she did. The world was spinning around her, only her grip on Starfang kept her grounded and upright. 

Anora, they still needed to get Anora free. Get her back to Eamon’s. Then she could sit, lay down. 

While Elissa tried her best to collect herself, Duran and Zevran inspected the few cells that were in the room. All but the last one was empty. A pale and beaten man sitting far in the back of it. Hiding away from the bars and the light, another one of Howe’s enemies that had been captured. 

The man hugged himself into a ball, rocking back and forth. With his head bent, his long ginger colored hair covered his face from view. He was mumbling loud enough for the others to hear, Wynne catching onto the random mixed together lines from the Chant of Light. 

“I am not alone. Even as I stumble on the path with my eyes closed, yet I see. The Light is here. It has to be here.” 

“Lyrium withdrawal.” Wynne explained to Zevran and Duran. 

The man made a whimpering sound at Wynne’s voice, inching further away from the bars and hugging the back of the cell. 

“Duran, the lock.” The dwarf gave a small nod and lifted the silverite axe upwards. It only took two downwards strikes to break the rusty lock on the cell. 

The sound attracted Elissa from staring at Howe’s body back to the rest of her party. Wynne bent down near the entrance of the cell and spoke towards the man, “It’s alright, we’re not here to hurt you.”

The Templar’s dirty ginger hair swung as he shook his head, “I..I can’t leave. She can’t see m..me like this.”

“She? Who is she?” Wynne asked in her gentle voice. 

Through the darkness, Wynne could make out the man’s face twisting in pain, another set of tears flowing from his eyes, “M..my sister. Alfstanna, she’s so much better than me. This is why I became Templar, but I failed, I still fail.” 

“Irminric Eremon, that’s Irminric Eremon.” Elissa mumbled out loud after hearing the name of the man’s sister. 

At the sound of his name, Irminric perked up. The Templar inched closer towards the open cell door, Elissa stood just behind Wynne, leveling her green eyes onto the former noble. 

Wynne glanced at Elissa but didn’t move. The Templar coming closer now, looking in between the elder mage and Elissa, “Yes. Irminric.”

“Irminric, how did you end up here?” Wynne could see the man grasping ring with a loop of leather through it. The only thing the man seemed to have in the cell. 

“We were ordered to hunt down a mage. Ordered by the Grand Cleric. But that didn’t matter to Loghain and Howe, they took him nevertheless. It was our holy duty.” The man mumbled out, his body shaking still. 

“Jowan.” Wynne said softly, shaking her head. The mage had been telling the truth, a part of her was glad that he had his head mounted on top of Redcliffe’s castle.

Irminric’s eyes snapped up at Wynne’s face, the man’s head moving in a hurried nod. 

“Irminric, it’s safe now. Howe is dead, Loghain is on his last leg, Jowan is dead. Come, we can help you.” Wynne moved her right hand out to gently rest on the man’s shoulder. 

Irminric pulled back, his head shaking again, “NO, no, I can’t leave. She can’t see me like this. It’s better if I stay dead, it’s easier then.”

Wynne attempted to move closer to him, shaking her head, “I don’t understand, Irminric, it’s safe now.”

Irminric only pulled back further. Going back to the point of hugging the back of the cell. His hand holding the ring reached out towards Wynne, “Give this to her. Tell her I died fighting.” 

The man dropped the ring into Wynne’s hand. The Templar turning his back to the ground and curling back into a ball. His mumbling and prayers starting again. 

Wynne’s fingers curled around the ring, glancing in between Duran and Zevran. They couldn’t just leave him there but to drag him out when he would clearly struggle would only add more issues to what they had. 

Elissa turned from the cell and inspected the rest of the room, finding a glowing talisman that glowed the same color of the ward that protected Anora’s door. Grabbing the talisman, Elissa finally found her voice, “We’re still not done.”

The Warden lead the way back up to where Anora was being held. The blood had long dried on her form. Away from Howe’s body and his crimes, her head started to clear. The sight of the bodies lined the hallways during their long walk back only brought a further sinking feeling into the pit of her stomach. 

Her hands were shaking nearly beyond control with each step closer she took back to Anora. She had tried her best to wipe off the hunks of flesh from Howe’s face, but some still lingered, caked with dried blood now. 

What was this rightful vengeance felt? All she could feel was becoming hollow, coldness setting in her body. 

Erlina was waiting for them, standing right outside of the first doorway that lead to Anora’s rooms. The maid’s skin paled at the bloody sight Elissa was, avoiding making eye contact, “Is it done?”

“Did the others get away?” Elissa passed the talism onto Wynne who swiftly got to work on the ward. 

“Yes, I helped them back to the kitchen and gave them directions. They didn’t wish to stay and I can’t blame them.”

Zevran popped the still unconscious Atticus on the ground and kept one eye on the main entrance, “No one was tried to reenter?”

“None, whatever the Arl is doing out there is working.” 

Elissa’s body was stiff, her hand resting on Starfang’s hilt. Her eyes level on the door, watching Wynne placing the talism into the blue glowing ward and then the ward disappearing into the air. 

“Your Majesty, the door is unlocked.” 

Elissa’s breath hitched in her throat at the sight of Anora standing in the doorway. Anora was only a few few inches shorter than her. Dressed in a light blue dress that brought out the blueness in her eyes, Anora always knew the power in appearances and even now she looked like the image of the powerful Queen she was. 

In contrast to Elissa. Her body stained red with dried blood, red puffy eyes, her usually tanned skin looking pale. The only thing she could feel now, was the starting of the slow beating of her heart. 

Anora’s eyes met hers as soon as the door was opened. Her hands cupping together in front of her, the same habit Anora had started years ago. 

Elissa could not keep Anora’s eyes for too long, the memories of staring into those blue eyes from years passed rushed to her. She could feel tears threatening to flow again, Elissa dipped her head forcing her green eyes to stare at her feet, “Anora.”

The others were staring between the women, standing less than a foot away now. The Queen staring at Elissa looking as if she wanted to say something or do something, the silence was finally broken when the Queen softly whispered out, “Thank you.”

The sound of the front doors of the estate opening shook Elissa from her silence. Head snapped in the direction of the doors, Zevran peeked his head around, “Group of soldiers. Have a yellow Wyvern.”

“My Father’s,” Anora hissed out, shaking her head, “Is there a woman leading them? With a claymore.”

Zevran glanced over the corner once more and then nodded back to the Queen. 

“Ser Cauthrien.” Elissa mumbled out. 

“Follow my lead, Ellssa.” Anora caught Elissa’s eyes, the two sharing a look before Anora brush past the party and headed to the main lobby. 

Stationed just beyond the main entrance, Ser Cauthrien and 20 men were spread across half of the lobby. Standing in the middle was Ser Cauthrien herself. Holding her claymore by the base of the blade, dressed head to toe in heavy silverite plate and the black and yellow surcoat of House Mac Tir on her form. 

Cauthrien’s brown eyes landed on Elissa first, standing out with the amount of blood on her and then falling onto Anora, “Your Majesty! Is everything alright? Your Father sent me to collect you.”

Anora arched a gold brow at the Knight, “To come and collect me? For whatever reason, he was the one that sent me here under the  _ protection  _ of Howe.”

“Where is the Arl? Why is the Warden here?”

“He’s dead.” Elissa’s voice spoke up before Anora could answer. 

Cauthrien’s eyes swept from the Queen and landed on the Warden, “Then the Lord Regent was right. The Warden has come to kidnap the Queen.”

“I believe I can speak for myself.” Anora hissed out, causing the knight to snap back towards Anora. 

“Howe deserved much worse than done to him. Conspiring with Blood Mages, kidnapping noble enemies, torture and Maker knows what else. Warden Cousland dealt the Queen’s justice. You do remember whom you serve,  _ the Crown _ .” Anora’s voice dripped with venom, her crystal blue eyes settling on the Knight. 

The fight the knight presented disappeared from view, her head bowing towards the Queen, “Your Majesty, the Lord Regen..”

“I believe I am the Queen, not my Father. The power still rests with the Crown no matter what papers my Father or Howe wrote.”

Elissa decided it was smarter to stay silent, Anora with only a few sentences had Cauthrien already backing down from fighting. 

“Your Majesty..”

Anora crossed the distance to come into the knight’s personal bubble, Elissa taking a half step forward at the sudden move. There was only a few times in her life Elissa had seen Anora become what everyone thought she was. A shrewd Ice Queen. 

“My Father threw me to become one of Howe’s play things. He has spent months usurping power from me and the Court. You know it’s true, we always knew from the moment he came back to Ostagar. You have a choice,” Anora looked over her shoulder and spoke to the other soldiers, “You all have a choice. Turn around and walk away. And decide whose side you are on.”

Silence filled the lobby, the soldiers looking in between each other and their leader. Cauthrien’s eyes couldn’t keep Anora’s fierce stare. 

“I never saw you, any of you.” Cauthrine whispered out. Stepping to the side and the party of soldiers parting, allowing the others to walk freely. 

Anora eyes didn’t move from Cauthrine, speaking once more, “Honor is a fickle thing, isn’t it?”

Turning, Anora motioned for her saviors to follow her out the doors and into the main courtyard. At least it made for quite the scene, seeing the Queen walk side by side a blood covered Warden Cousland. 


	3. Chapter 3

She had bathed and scrubbed every inch of her skin clean but she could still see the blood dripping from her hands. 

They had arrived back in a flurry of scenes. Elissa remembered telling Eamon to send some of his men to grab the ones they couldn’t carry with them, then Decker explaining the City guard had been told, arresting the rest of Howe’s soldiers. 

It all was a blur of faces. 

Sitting on the bed inside of the guest bedroom she had taken for her stay at Eamon’s estate, her eyes were fixed on her hands. She had spent hours scrubbing and scrubbing, but still she could see it. 

The hunks of flesh and the blood hanging from her knuckles. The sound of Howe’s screams, the sound of his flesh and bone breaking under her. 

She had done what she set out for from Highever, she had avenged everyone that had died the night, but all she could feel was emptiness. 

It should’ve made her sleep easier, she should be happy. 

But the hours following making it back to Eamon’s estate with Anora, she had locked herself into her room without another word to anyone and cried. Maybe it was the childish thought that this was simply all a dream, that if she killed Howe she could wake up and be back in Highever the morning to see her Father off to Ostagar. 

She could still remember the pained smile on his face. Hand clasped to the arrow sticking out of his belly. By the Maker she wished she had stayed. Stayed and died with the rest of her family. It had to be better than  _ this _ , this emptiness that threatened to eat her whole. 

What was she supposed to feel in this moment? Was this what righteous victory tasted like? Vinegar and regret eating away at what she had left to give? 

Her body started shaking again, curling her arms around her midriff. Her head bent forward, rocking back and forth, how badly she wished she could sleep and never wake up.

* * *

 

_ The Midsummer Eve ball that the Couslands put on every year was the talk of the Bannorn for a total 2 months before hand. It even out did anything the Palace could put on. Bryce’s pockets were deep, caterers from Antiva, musicians from Orlais. Each year it only grew larger and larger as the wealth of Highever grew larger from trading.  _

_ Personally, Elissa found the entire affair quite boring as she grew older. Now entering her early 20’s things were becoming expected of her. She was prime for marriage to anyone in Southern Thedas at this point. The Couslands were an old and powerful name, even nobles as far as Antiva already showing interest in connecting their family lines.  _

_ Elissa herself had no idea what she wanted to do with her life. A part of her wished to spend her life travelling to the far off reaches of Thedas. Another part of her wanted to be a warrior, she had spent most of her teenage life training with the Castle Master-At-Arms.  _

_ She didn’t wish to be married to some noble that she couldn’t even find attractive. No matter how gilded the cage, it is still a cage.  _

_ Elissa even went as far as to refuse to wear a dress for the evening. Not that she didn’t like wearing dresses but Elissa wished to be the talk of the Court for weeks to come. The usual fine silk dress was traded in for a more formal military attire. A black coat trimmed with gold and Cousland blue sash running from shoulder to hip. With black pants to match and a pair of shined leather boots, Elissa didn’t need a dress to look beautiful.  _

_ It had taken twisting her Mother’s arm and begging her Father but finally the two caved in to their youngest and had the suit made for Elissa.  _

_ Dark auburn hair done in soft curls that went a little bit past her shoulders, she attracted more than just some stares from the passing guests but there was only one person she was searching for.  _

_ But the Queen Anora seemed to be quite pleased in ignoring her secret lover. Going as far to only have a passing conversation with Elissa when the ball first started before nearly disappearing for the entire night.  _

_ Every time that Elissa got close to getting Anora alone, another Bann or Arl would need the Queen’s attention. Elissa was having quite enough with the lack of attention.  _

_ It was well into the night that Elissa found herself wandering the gardens of Highever alone. After the fourth young Lord had asked for her hand to dance, Elisas decided that it would be better to simply hide away until the nobility became too drunk to dance.  _

_ There was a few other souls in the dark corners of the garden who seemed very much more interested in each other than the wandering Cousland.  _

_ As she turned the corner that lead to a small patio that overlooked Highever and onwards towards the coast in the far distance and the sea, Elissa stopped in her step. Leaning over the banister of the patio was her heart’s desire in the flesh, Anora.  _

_ Elissa had to wonder if it was fate or simply chance but she wasn’t one to waste an opportunity. Taking one more glance behind her to make sure no one was approaching, Elissa moved forward, “My favorite sight in all of the world.”  _

_ Anora’s head turned, even in the low light Elissa could see the frustration on Anora’s face. Going to stand next to her, Elissa rested her forearms on the banister also, speaking in a low voice, “What’s wrong?” _

_ “Cailan. Again. I do not know why I get angry at him. The least he can do is keep his misdealing behind closed doors. Not publically hitting on some daughter of an Anvita Merchant Lord in the middle of the ball for everyone to see. How I am expected to be the Queen when the King can’t even respect me in public.”  _

_ Elissa was always careful when it came to the topic of Cailan around Anora. The blonde haired man was always the shadow in the room when it came to their private moments. Their relationship was different than Cailan’s love affairs. His widespread with rumors of bastards being born left and right, theirs was something different, something that neither could understand.  _

_ The Cousland always wondered if Cailan knew the truth of Anora and hers relationship. While there was rumors of the two being more than just friends Anora was merciless in hunting those would sayers down and ruining them.  _

_ Anora let out a deep sighe and dropped her head into her hands, “I am sorry for ignoring you tonight, Elissa. Cailan was questioning me the entire way here about us, he’s up to something.” _

_ Elissa felt a painful ping in her heart. She always wished she could be open with Anora, cup her cheek and kiss those lips for everyone to see.  _

_ It was a foolish move, they could never be together truly and the risk of it all ending in disaster raised every moment they were together. But the feelings between them was real, when she saw Anora it was more than just lust. _

_ But this was the reality of a Queen’s love. Passing hoping glances, stolen moments and borrowed time. _

_ Moving from the banister, Anora watched as Elissa moved into a bow and offered out with her hand, “May I have this dance, Your Majesty?” _

_ Elissa thought for a moment Anora was going to say no. Blue eyes shining through the low light, glancing behind Elissa to see if the walkway to the patio was still empty before finally moving off the banister to gently take Elissa’s hand.  _

_ The Cousland was a few inches taller than Anora and in doing so, she took the lead. Donning a regular dancing position, Anora’s head rested perfectly on her shoulder, brushing her nose into Elissa’s formal coat, “Why couldn’t it  been you?” _

_ The way Anora’s voice cracked from an unseen emotion. How soft it sounded. The way her hands ball the front of Elissa’s coat, it all made Elissa’s heart cry out. Emotion starting to pool in her throat, she pressed her face into the top of Anora’s blonde hair, “A lot of things would be easier.” _

* * *

 

Elissa wished she was still wearing her armor. She felt bare without it, unprotected, naked. As if everyone could see the real her, Elissa, not simply  _ The Warden _ . It was the feeling that hadn’t left her since killing Howe. 

She carried Maric’s sword in one hand and the bundle of documents taken from Cailan’s chest in the other. Her eyes studied the door knob just out of reach, waiting for her. 

Elissa closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to fill and unfill her lungs. Too many thoughts raced through her head; Anora, Howe, Loghain, Eamon, Anora,  _ Anora _ . 

She waited for her just behind the door. The years apart coming to an end at the worst possible time. As all of Ferelden turned to ash around them. While the different whispering voices brought doom to every decision Elissa had ever made. 

The sound of Howe’s face breaking underneath her hands whispered in her right ear. How Anora said ‘ _ Elissa’ _ whispering in her left. 

The thought of Howe drifted away. How his body broke underneath him, how she  _ enjoyed  _ every moment of killing him. How his screams only pushed her further in breaking him. It was replaced with the sight of seeing Anora’s face for the first time in what felt like a lifetime. 

Gathering what courage she could find, Elissa lifted her hand up and knocked once on the door. 

It took only a second for the door to open, answered by Erlina. The Warden didn’t miss the way that Erlina refused eye contact with her. Not after seeing what she had done at Howe’s estate. The fear was hidden in her eyes but how her body was tense, caught like a rat to a cat. 

“The Queen is expecting you.” The elf whispered, bending her upper body and opening the door fully. 

Elissa stepped into the room, trying her best to force a gentle smile to ease the fear from the elf but it came out too forced. She could feel it on her lips, too bright, too wide. 

There were many times in her life that Anora had rendered her breathless, wordless. Most often it was during their heated moments of passion. When the Ice Queen let down her walls and enjoyed in the flesh that she so desperately craved. 

She was more than what Elissa remembered. Anora stood tall, bright blue and white dress accenting her body. Back straight, gold crown resting on her braided bun. It was effortless for her, born for a single purpose. Hands were cupped in front of her body, fingers interlaced together. 

Those feelings locked hidden in her heart, saved for the back of her head when sleep threatened to take her, came roaring back. The woman she was before, those memories that she tried to hide even from herself. 

Elissa could feel tears starting to boil behind her eyes. A true smile coming to her lips at the sight of Anora standing before her,  _ alive _ . 

Neither were sure who crossed the distance first, perhaps it was both of them that had made the step together, driven by seeing the other again. 

Within a moment Anora had thrown her arms around Elissa’s neck, hugging the redhead tightly to her. Elissa was careful but wrapped her her right arm around Anora’s waist, returning the hug the best she could. 

Anora’s perfume hadn’t changed, the same Antivian smell that Elissa had enjoyed so much years previously. It calmed her pounding head, making her focus on the warm body pressed to her. 

Elissa stumbled back from the force of the hug, nearly hitting the back of her calves into a coffee table until she regained her step. 

_ “Anora.” _ Elissa whispered the blonde’s name out near her ear. 

Anora only hugged tighter, squeezing the Warden for all her worth until she finally went to disconnect the two. Her hands unclasped from behind Elissa’s neck, hot fingertips running along the sides of her neck, upwards to trace the curves of her face. 

Elissa knew she looked different. Older in many aspects. The girl barely entering adulthood was gone. The 24 year old looked tired, her harden features softening from underneath Anora’s gentle touching. 

The Warden tossed the bundle of documents onto the table next to her, allowing her hand to freely clasped Anora’s hip and stand still. 

She heard Erlina leaving the room, a side door opening and then closing, giving the two women a quiet moment of privacy. 

Pale thumbs brushed across her lower eyelids, wiping away the stray tears that had appeared in the Warden’s green eyes. A smile tugged at the corners of Anora’s lips, “Thank you.”

The worry was apparent in Anora’s eyes. The worry that Elissa refused to remember those feelings from before. The years spent together, replaced now with hatred for what her Father had done. That Anora too would bare the burden of her Father’s sins from the one woman that knew her better than anyone else. 

Elissa realized that fear, the same fear that had whispered in her heart all the way to Denerim. Words died in the pit of her throat, Elissa knew she should say something in this moment. After Howe, after so much time apart. 

A simple love you didn’t seem enough. 

The redhead nudged forward. Resting her forehead to Anora, her arm curling tightly around the Queen’s wasit. Her nose nuzzled downwards and across her pale cheek. Her lips hovered over Anora’s, a breathless sigh escaped from the blonde, notching up closer to press their lips together. 

The moment was broken before their lips could touch. The side door opened with Erlina returning to the room with a tray of tea. The elf didn’t look in the direction of the two women, only placing the tray down on a side table and started pouring two glasses. 

It broke the silence that hung over them. Anora ran her hands down over Elissa’s chest as she stepped away, “It’s good to see you, Elissa.”

“I wish it was under better circumstances.” The Warden put gently, her eyes were still on Anora. 

Anora motioned to the sofa to their side. The Queen sat and smoothed out her skirt while Erlina placed two different tea cups on the coffee table. Elissa followed suit, placing the sword down on the side of the couch. 

There was an obvious wall between them. Accented by the wide space of the sofa between them. Even with their moment seconds ago, there was a nervous unsure energy that hung in the air. 

Elissa tried to settled her racing head and beating heart. Without Starfang to hold onto, she didn’t know what to do with her hands. She finally placed them in her lap, fingers playing with the others. She hated when she fidgeted. 

Anora lifted her tea cup up and sipped from it. Eyes glancing from Elissa to the sword and documents on the table, “I was under the impression Maric’s sword was lost at Ostagar.”

“I went back. Months ago.” She hated how cold her tone sounded. There was no need for it, not between her and Anora. But Elissa couldn’t find that warmth, the gentleness she knew she had locked away somewhere. 

“Truly? I never understood why Cailan took the sword of state with him. He had this grand fantasy of cutting down the darkspawn warpack leader with it.”

Elissa nodded slowly, but couldn’t stop the memories of finding Cailan’s dead body hung up for sport, “If I could’ve saved him, Anora, I would’ve.”

Anora’s eyes came back to study the side of Elissa’s face. Both had more than enough reasons to hate Cailan. The knowledge of the documents aside, he did nothing to protect Anora. He slept and fucked whatever and whoever when he wanted. 

He didn’t deserve to be left to die and watch his army be eaten alive. 

“But then I would’ve lost you.” Anora whispered. 

Elissa turned her head, catching Anora’s blue eyes. Her arm reached over, not breaking eye contact, to toss slide the documents closer to the Queen, “Before we speak of anything else, you deserve to read these.”

Anora flicked a gold brow up. The first seal she knew being that of Redcliffe. Placing the tea cup down, she picked the three letters up and quickly read through them. 

It only took a few passing seconds for Anora to read through the first letter. The papers curling as her hands clenched into fists. Very rarely did Anora allow any emotion to drip through, less of all anger. 

It flashed across her face like a thunderbolt from cloudy skies. She tossed the letters, the thin parchment floating through the air to land randomly across the sitting room. 

Anora leaned back into the sofa, fingers spraying across her face, elbow resting on the armrest, “He  _ dared _ to make an alliance with  _ Celene _ .”

“It appears so.” 

“How did he think the rest of Ferelden would respond? That they would gladly go along with becoming subjects underneath her Imperial Crown? What his Father had fought for not 30 years before?” Anora’s voice was raising. 

“Nevermind Gwaren rising up, the whole of the Kingdom would have risen up in rebellion. Was he truly this  _ stupid.”  _ Anora mumbled, shaking her head and suddenly looking in the need for something stronger than tea. 

“Eamon whispered in his ear. You saw the other letter. No different than before.”

Anora nodded, “You’re right. He was Cailan’s Chancellor, he would’ve known. But to sell Ferelden to Celene? Eamon fought and lost equal amounts during the rebellion. To only sell it back again?”

“A better price?”

Anora fell quiet, her eyes staring and zeroing in on a pot of flowers on the far side of the room, “Erlina.”

The elf appeared from elsewhere in the rooms. Hands clasped in front of her. The maid bowed to the Queen, “Yes, Your Majesty?”

“Wine. Whatever the kitchens have.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

Once the doors were closed, Anora sighed. Long pale fingers rubbed her temples while the other lifted the crown up off her head and tossed it onto the coffee table. 

Blue eyes became fixed on the bundle of gold on the table, mixing well with the dark oak of the coffee table. An alliance with Celene? What else did he do behind her back? What else did she miss?

Anora had every reason to assume Cailan had plans in motion to get rid of her. To align with Celene was not something she thought Cailan possible of. 

“Did my Father know?”

Anora knew that if Loghain Mac Tir, the Hero of the River Dane, had found out that Cailan was going to sell them all to Celene he would’ve done anything to stop it. Like leaving Cailan and a better half of the Army to die at Ostagar. 

That was the question that lingered in the reaches of Elissa’s head since the moment she read those letters. If Loghain knew what Cailan planned to do and this is how he protected Ferelden. Such justifications were drastic. 

“I don’t know. It would make sense. Leaving Cailan to die at Ostagar, sending a blood mage after Eamon…”

“A blood mage?” Anora’s head turned to Elissa. 

“Let me start over. From Highever.” The redhead said quietly, suddenly finding her fingers fidgeting again in her lap. 

Anora crossed the distance of the sofa until the point their knees were touching. The close distance appeared to help Elissa, one of her shaky hands moved from her lap to rest on Anora’s knee, squeezing it tightly. 

“I was going to use Father leaving to Ostagar as a reason to slip out to Denerim for a visit. Mother knew of course but wasn’t going to say anything. In hindsight, when Howe arrived, I knew something was off but I thought it was just Duncan.”

“The former Grey Warden Commander?” Anora asked. 

“Yes,” Elissa paused, her head snapping up at Erlina returning to the room with the bottle of wine and two glasses. The maid was silent with uncorking the bottle and pouring the two women their glasses. She bowed and exited once more, “He had come for Ser Gilmore, but it became apparent he was there for me.”

“A Cousland Grey Warden? He was more political than he appeared. A sure way to make sure the Order was heard in Ferelden.” Anora leaned over to pick up her glass, swirling the contents and then sipping from it. 

Elissa nodded, the all famailr pain of that night at Highever settled in her stomach, forming a tight ball and sitting like a heavy stone in a river. Her mind flashed back to Howe’s deadly whisper,  _ ‘Do you feel like a hero yet?’  _

“He attacked near midnight after a feast to see them off. Most of the army was gone, just the garrison left. By the time I woke up, the lower city was overran, pockets of fighting everywhere. Castle Cousland had the worst of it.” 

Elissa found herself moving her hand from Anora’s knee and clasping them back into her lap, “Most of it is a blur. I remember fighting, killing, nearly dying more than once. I found Father with an arrow through his gut. Duncan forced him to give me over. I wanted to stay, Highever is my  _ home _ and he sent me away.”

Elissa nearly jumped out of her skin when Anora’s warm hand slipped into her lap, finding and interlacing. Elissa clasped both hands over Anora’s, focusing on the gentle skin underneath her worn hands, “You know what happened at Ostagar. Loghain was right in someways, Cailan had overestimated the strength of the darkspawn. I’m not sure what happened on the ground but by the time we lite the signal fire, it looked like chaos.” 

Anora’s lips formed into a thin line. That was her Father’s reasoning when he first returned but that story had changed too many times over the course of the year. 

“Alistair and I were healed back to health by a witch of the wilds, Morrigan. With the Grey Warden treaties we had a few options in front of us, Alastair wanted to goto Redcliffe, I really didn’t want to deal with Eamon.”

“Alistair is Maric’s bastard, correct?”

“Don’t judge him by his Father. Alistair wasn’t raised as a Theirin, doesn’t think himself as one.”

Anora nodded quietly at Elissa’s tone. 

“We went to the Circle first and helped cleared it of it’s demon issues. Then to Redcliffe. That’s when things begin to get troubling. Eamon’s son, Conor, had made a pact with a Desire Demon.”

“By the Maker. A  _ desire demon _ .”

“An army of the undead rose everynight to assault the village. Teagan and I were able to defeat the horde and gain entrance to the castle where it was worst. That is when we found Jowan, the blood mage.”

“The one my father sent?”

“Loghain killed his Templar escort and sent him to Redcliffe. He was the one that convinced Conor to make a pact with the demon. With the help of the Circle we were able to send Jowan into the Fade to face the demon. But then we found Eamon was still in a coma.”

“So the rumors of the Ashes of Andraste were a jok…”

“True.”

“You do realize what you’re saying…”

“You’re jumping ahead in the story, Anora.”

In spite of everything else, Anora couldn’t help to smile at the near playful glare on Elissa’s face, “Please, go on.”

“Yes, the Circle argued that with enough Spirit Healers and time, Eamon could be woken up. Teagan had already sent knights out to search for the Urn, he recommended us to look into those rumors while the Circle made preparations.”

“I never knew Teagan to put much stock into what is onkin to pure fantasy tales.”

“What else could he hope for? We were sent to small village not far from the entrance to Orzammar where a Chantry scholar, Brother Genitivi had a theory on where to find the Urn. We didn’t find him but we did find a group of Cultists called the ‘Disciples of Andraste’. After some...intense conversing, we were pointed to the village of Haven deep in the Frostbacks.”

Elissa glanced over the fact that Zevran, the assassin hired by Loghain, had tourted Waylen for hours to get the information they needed. 

Anora was quiet, hanging onto each word that left Elissa’s mouth. The rumors of Eamon and what Elissa had done to cured him ran rampant across Ferelden. She didn’t believe that she had found the Urn of Sacred Ashes and yet here was Elissa proving her wrong. 

“The plan was to make straight for the village but we were stopped. As I said, we were close to Ozammer and we still had the treaty for the Dwarves. Ontop of the fact that your Father had sent a delegation…”

“A delegation? I remember no such thing being brought up to me.”

Elissa nodded slowly, “A delegation to the Dwarves. They proclaimed him King Loghain, and seeked an alliance with the Dwarves in the Blight and Ferelden Civil War.”

Anora eyes narrowed, taking a harsh sip from her wine glass at the news, “So you went to Ozammer instead?”

“We had the treaty to fulfill and I couldn’t allow Loghain to get the Dwarves on his side. The Maker was on our side, Ozammer was locked in a succession crisis and didn’t care for the Ferelden delegation.”

“I sense a but somewhere.”

“The delegation was being refused entrance to the city but we were allowed in. The leader, I forgot his name now, took offense to it. I sent the rest packing back to Denerim. Did you truly did not know?”

Anora drowned back the rest of her wine glass and refilled it, “Of course not. Since the moment my Father named himself Lord Regent he does has he pleases. I am nothing more than a figurehead. And if he’s claimed himself to be King, then I can reason why he gave me to Howe.”

There was bitterness in Anora’s voice. Laced with anger and sorrow. The Queen refused to look at Elissa, instead focusing on drowning the wine to give her something, anything else, to feel rather than the cold realization of how far her Father’s madness went. 

Elissa squeezed Anora’s hand tightly, unsure what to say and instead went back to telling the tale, “The King of Orzammar had died and two were trying for the throne but the Assembly was driven down the middle. I started to support one of them, Lord Harrowmont. He tasked us with entering the Deep Roads and finding Paragon Branka, the supposed last living Paragon who could break the tie.”

Anora looked back to Elissa, “You went into the Deep Roads?”

“We spent a month in darkspawn infested tunnels and ruins. To put it lightly.” Elissa itched the back of her neck at the memory of the Dead Trenches. 

Anora appeared to realize there was much more to what happened in the Deep Roads than Elissa let on. She squeezed Elissa’s hand again, thumb brushing over tanned knuckles, “And not lightly?”

The most Elissa remembered about the Deep Roads were the sounds. The ever present feeling that she and the others were being watch. How the growling of the Broodmother still echoed in the deep reaches of her nightmares. Duran’s pale blue eyes staring at her from underneath a mountain of dead. The dwarf’s mumbling over and over again about how a part of you never leaves. 

Elissa screwed shut her eyes. Howe, the Deep Roads, Highever, speaking of everything only threatened to break her head into two. 

A part of her couldn’t ever shake that a bit of her never left the Deep Roads. Lost forever in those tunnels and ruins of a once great civilization. A part of her that she would never recover, like so many different pieces that she had lost since Highever. 

“We found two Paragons. Branka and Paragon Caridin who was put into the body of a golem generations before.”

The flash of pain that had come to Oghren’s face as he slipped his dagger through Branka’s ribs flashed across the full front of Elissa’s memory. The fighting between the golems, Shale defending Caridin. 

_ ‘Is this what our empire should look like? A crumbling tunnel filled with darkspawn. And us hiding among the ruins like rats? The Anvil will let us take back our glory, Warden!”  _

“Branka was killed. In return for a crown crafted by Caridin we destroyed the Anvil of the Void, the tool used to create golems.” 

Elissa could feel Anora’s eyes on her. Fixed on the side profile of her face. The Queen naturally knew she was holding back most details, moreso about what happened in the Deep Roads. Elissa didn’t want to talk about it, she wasn’t ready to talk about what happened. 

It was painful enough to feel the rushing emotions of leaving her Family to die, forced by her dying Father to join the Wardens. Carrying that guilt like a burden of rocks on her shoulders with each step she took. 

“You crowned the next King of Orzammar?” Anora asked to break the silence that had fallen. 

“Yes. Lord Harrowmont. In return he swore his army to our cause and refused to make terms with Loghain. In comparison, Ozammer seemed like a breeze to what still waited for us in Haven.”

A part of her still didn’t believe what happened at Haven. That maybe it was something her mind dreamed up to cope with everything that had happened. Maybe some ancient spell locked over the place had made them all think it happened one way but in reality happened in another. 

“Haven was a front for this Cult. Not so different than the Imperial Chantry, male centered. They were not welcoming to put it lightly. We cleaved our way through the village and found Genitivi who explained that there was an ancient temple built into these mountains to house Andraste’s Ashes. The Cult are the descents of those Exalted that carried Andraste back to Ferelden.”

“Why do you call it a Cult?”

“Well, a High Dragon pick its nest in the same area. From what we were able to gather, over the generations, the group became obsessed with the dragon and its kin. Thinking that the High Dragon was Andraste reborn.”

Anora fell silent, a look of disbelieve plastered across her face. If it was anyone that wasn’t Elissa, Anora wouldn’t believe a word that came out of their mouth. But with the calm grimness hanging over her and how she glanced over details, she knew it had to be true. For better or worse. 

“They were fanatics in every true sense of the word. There wasn’t anything to save. The High Dragon was the...larger issue to get pass. It guarded the way to the innermost temple in the mountains.”

“Is it killed or slayed, when it comes to a dragon?” The teasing glint became apparent in Anora’s blue eyes, hoping it would crack a smile from Elissa. 

“The temple the dragon guarded was called the Gauntlet,” Elissa started, trying her best to force a smile to match the glint in Anora’s eyes. It failed, fading fast as a sigh left her lips, “There was someone waiting for whatever pilgrim had made it that far.”

Anora slipped her hand from Elissa’s lap and moved closer to the Warden until they were sat side by side. Her fingers trailed up the side of Elissa’s arm, wrapping around her bicep and squeezing it tightly. 

“It’s...hard to explain what happened in the Gauntlet. There were tests of faith, illusions, Magic, the Fade? I don’t know how to explain it but at the end was the Urn resting untouched since it was brought there.” 

Elissa paused once more, looking down at the table. One of hands moved up to the leather strap that hung from around her neck. A small leather bag hung from a leather strip, hidden by the tunic she wore. 

“I carried it in this. All the way back to Redcliffe. I, and countless others, watched as the ashes brought Eamon back from the edge of death.”

The tips of Anora’s fingers traced along the red leather pouch, “The Chantry will call you a heretic. Or they might name you Anointed.”

“Either thought is rather terrifying.” Elissa tried to tease, clasping her hand with that of Anora’s that traced the pouch. 

“I...I’m sorry, Elissa.” Anora whispered softly, blue eyes dipping down to look at their connected hands, watching how their skin tones mixed together. Her mind wandering as Elissa simply enjoyed the silence between the two.

* * *

 

_ Anora sat on a small pile of crates and barrels. Her blonde hair roughly undone from it’s tight and elegant bun, allowing the blonde hair to fall freely. Her eyes eyes were red and puffy from crying. Her fingers played with the collar of her shirt.  _

_ The door to the side storage room threw open, Elissa marching in with her hands clasped into fists, strands of auburn hair flying out in all directions from her usual tight braid, “Where is he, Anora? I swear to the Maker I don’t that he’s the future King, I am going to tear his balls off.” _

_ Anora’s head snapped up at the sudden appearance of Elissa. Anora noticed the red and bruised knuckles on her fists, “What happened, Elissa? Did you get into a fight?” _

_ It was then she noticed the red scratched marks along Elissa’s cheek, “Lady Elizabeth MacGarth. She looks much worse than I do.” _

_ The future Queen jumped from her seat, moving closer to Elissa and grabbing her hands, “Ellie, you shouldn…” _

_ “I don’t care, Anora. Cailian and Elizabeth think they’re so high and mighty. I know what they did today, they embraced you in front of the entire Court.” Elissa hissed out, allowing Anora to gently grasp her hands.  _

_ “The MacGarths are some of my Father’s strongest all…” _

_ “Come off it, Anora. You know your Father is probably laughing now hearing that someone is finally putting them into their place.” _

_ Anora knew Elissa was right but didn’t want to admit it outloud. Pressing her face into Elissa’s chest, the taller girl’s arms wrapped around her waist. The two 16 year olds standing in silence, simply enjoy the feel of each other against one another.  _

_ “He made you cry, Anora, again. I won’t allow it. He’s fucking her and countless others. He doesn’t have any shame at all.” _

_ Anora moved her face from Elissa’s chest, her eyes meeting Elissa’s, “Does that mean you are shameful of us?” _

_ It was a low blow and both knew it but Anora wasn’t finished yet, “What he’s doing is no different than what we are doing.” _

_ Anora attempted to slip away from Elissa’s grip, but the Cousland kept her grip strong around the blonde’s waist, forcing Anora to stay put, “It is different. We both know it’s different.” _

_ Panic gripped Anora, she knew where this was going to lead. Those feelings that hoovered just under the surface. Her hands fisted the front of Elissa’s clothes, they had to end it, she had to end it before Elissa said those words. She couldn’t hear those words or it would break down the last wall she kept up.  _

_ “Don’t, please don’t..” Anora’s voice became soft once more, tears starting to form in her eyes, trying to shake her grip.  _

_ “I love you, Anora. I am not shameful of us. If it was possible, I would run away with you right this moment. Live out in the Wilds, at least there we could be us.” Elissa whispered out, her voice pleading with Anora. _

_ The logical side of Anora told her to end it here. The past year had changed Anora, she knew it, she knew the positive effect of Elissa on her life. But the risk of having a same sex lover would destroy any power Anora held, Cailan would be merciless if the truth ever came to light.  _

_ But hearing those words leave Elissa’s lips, feeling their bodies pressed together just perfectly, it was too much for her to attempt to refuse, she knew what she felt, “I love you too, Ellie.” _

_ The declaration was sealed with a slow and sweet kiss.   _

* * *

 

“In comparison, the forest was pretty much a bre…” Whatever else Elissa tried to say to pass fill the silence that had formed between them was cut off by Anora turning and clasping their lips together.

Elissa gave a mix of a muffled moan and whine as she felt the familiar lips connecting to hers. The taste of wine on them both mixed with the slight taste of strawberries that seemed to linger on the Queen’s lips. 

It only took a few seconds of stumbling against each other before they found the old rhythm. Their lips moving together in a practiced perfect harmony. Anora’s hands gently rested on Elissa’s stomach, pushing her onto her back as Anora climbed over her. 

Elissa’s arm curled around Anora’s slim waist while Anora’s hands fisted Elissa’s shirt. What was meant to be a simple kiss shifted into something much more. 

Every emotion from the past years coming back in bright white fury. Every moment of pain since they parted, the passion and love long buried being expressed they could through their kiss. 

They only broke the kiss when the need of air become too strong. Their foreheads pressed together with warm breaths rushing over each other faces. Anora arched down, pressing her face into the crook of Elissa’s neck. 

Ellisa’s arms wrapped tight around Anora’s body, the two simply becoming used to the feel of each other once more.

“I don't want to talk about that tonight. I don’t want to think of what my Father have done. I just want to lay here with you.” Anora whispered out into Elissa’s neck. 

Just like that every nightmare, every thought that had plagued her from the start of this journey just seem to fade. Not even Howe’s blood on her hands was present as she felt Anora’s body pressed to hers.

Her senses were filled with the faint smell of strawberries that must of been Anora’s body soap or lotion or perhaps the woman was just made of strawberries. 

It was the first time in a very long time that the coldness that settled into her bones faded away. Replaced with a warmth she hadn’t felt for months. Maybe she didn’t have to suffer through this alone.

* * *

 

  
The rays of the rising sun flowed through the cracked open drapes of the Anora’s bedroom. The Queen was already awake before the sun, having actually got a full night of sleep for the first time since Cailan left for Ostagar. 

In due to the woman that was currently asleep in her arms. 

Elissa’s body moved up and down in gentle deep breaths, the Warden still deep in sleep. Straddling one of Anora’s long legs, Elissa’s head rested right near the crook of the blonde’s neck,  perfectly pressed together like two puzzle pieces. 

Anora’s arm was tucked across Elissa’s waist while her free one slowly trailed up and down the side of Elissa’s naked body. 

Anora’s fingertips traced over the curve of Elissa’s hip. Her pale fingers contrasted against Elissa’s lightly tanned skin. The Cousland had a number of new scars from the months of fighting. A slash mark across her right hip, a silver stabbing mark under her left ribcage, a few more little marks that stood out against the former flawless skin. 

_ Even at his young teenage age Cailan was already showing that while he might be lead around like a dog on a leash sometimes when it came to Anora he had was quite known to simply be attracted to anything that had a skirt.  _

_ She could remember leaving the main room where the Bannon were screaming back and forth to find where her Prince had gone off too, to only find him in one of the many hallways trying his hardest to press some other girl against a wall.  _

_ Even from the far end of the hallway Anora could see the beauty the girl held. Lightly tanned skin, auburn hair and a pair of bright green eyes, she was beautiful. An odd feeling started to boil in the pit of Anora’s stomach. This girl demanded every moment of Anora’s stare and the Ice Princess didn’t even mind.  _

_ In the span of time it took Anora to march down the hallway the other girl had kneed Cailan straight in between the legs and slammed his head into the wall, talking quite loudly. _

_ “My Father is Bryce Cousland. You will give me the respect I am due and not manhandle me like some elf maid, Your Highness.” She spit out the last words, voicing quite clearly what she felt about the Royal.  _

_ Anora was only a few feet away  but had completely stopped in her step. She had caught Cailan in different positions before but never had the girl actually tried to say no and throw him off. They always enjoyed the attention from the future King.  _

_ But here was this spitfire of a girl going right ahead with assaulting royalty.  _

_ Anora had scan her head to remember the name of the Cousland children but in the span of time that took, the other girl had straightened her dress and turned, to only go wide eyed at the sight of Anora standing only a few feet away.  _

_ “This must look extremely bad, doesn’t it?” The girl got out fast, trying her best to simply smirk and smile her way through it.  _

_ She must of hit Cailan extremely hard because the young boy was still trying to get sense of the world and cradle his privates, “A..anora please.”  _

_ Anora simply flashed a death glare at her future husband before taking in the sight of the girl opposite from her. That feeling came back now at the closer distance, settling now in between Anora’s legs, a heat that was starting grow hotter and hotter with each long second.  _

_ She looked even better close up, high cheekbones, an autocratic nose from generations of prefect breeding, those bright green eyes holding a certain spark in them that was stirring that fire in Anora.  _

_ The future Queen had to find her words. Those green eyes were staring into her blue ones and Cailan was finally getting to his feet, “No worse than I have found him before.” _

_ The red haired girl’s hand moved forward across the small distance Anora had left, “Elissa Cousland.” _

_ There it was, the youngest of Bryce Cousland. Much younger sister to Fergus Cousland who was a common sight at Court. And according to the Court gossip along the Bannon was quite the wild child.  _

_ “Anora Mac Tir. I believe the last time we saw each other was at the last Landsmeet wasn’t it? You fell asleep in the back and your snoring nearly brought the fury of Arl Adrian on you.” Anora returned the handshake, a smile coming to her features at the feel of Elissa’s warm soft hand meeting hers.  _

At first it was an actual friendship. Her first and only friend before meeting Elissa in earnest was Cailan but that had drifted apart once puberty had hit.

Her thoughts wandered back and forth as her fingers did the same across Elissa’s body. Being pressed so close to her lover only threatened to remind her of their life before. Before the Blight, before Ostager.

Elissa in many parts was the only thing she had left. Her father was a shadow of what he once was. Tainted by Howe, this Blight, his own madness.

He had given her to Howe, knowing what type of man Rendon was. The question that lingered was; why?

As Anora begun to feel the tell tale signs of tears coming and feeling her heart dropping into her stomach, Elissa started to stir in her arms. Anora’s arm still was tucked around Elissa’s waist, her wandering hand curled around Elissa’s hip as the Warden’s eyes were slow to open. 

“Have I finally died and this is the Maker’s way of making it all up to me?” Her lover’s voice whispered out near her ear while the feel of her lips pressed a small kiss to Anora’s jawline. 

“You always did know the way to charm me.” Anora mumbled back, a blush coming to her cheeks. Elissa always had that effect on her. 

Elissa moved away from Anora’s warm chest, going to sit up and lean back on Anora’s leg. Auburn hair falling in loose curls and those bright green eyes holding the spark that had been missing during their meeting. 

Anora’s hands found themselves going to rest on Elissa’s hips as the two simply stared at each other in silence. 

There was a million things that Anora wanted to say. She was never good when it came to her emotions, her Father was worse. Neither could actually say what their feeling, Anora could charm any noble, play the game but when it came to actually making that personal connection? 

But the Queen’s heart had  _ missed  _ Elissa. It had cried out for her when news reached her ears of the events at Highever. She had to hold herself back from riding away in the night. A part of her felt like she had failed Elissa. All she could do was protect herself in the Court, anything she could try to help Elissa would’ve been blocked or found out. 

Elissa only raised a brow and leaned down once more to gently cup Anora’s cheeks. Her thumbs tracing over the blonde’s cheekbones before she leaned forward to press a kiss to Anora’s lips. It was only a simple brushing that left Anora wanting to tell Elissa to throw her down on the bed, everything about Elissa left her like that. 

But the kiss ended far too soon for Anora’s liking and Elissa’s warm breath washing over her face, “I should leave, shouldn't I? Before the rest of the estate wakes up.”

There it was; the reality of the outside world. Her Father’s crimes, the Blight, the darkspawn, the nobles, the Civil War, all of it. Last night was the first time since it had all started that Anora hadn’t thought of any of it, all she cared to was to feel every inch of Elissa and hold her close. 

Elissa seemed to hold the same look in Anora’s eyes. Neither wanted to leave this room, whatever fate had planned could wait forever. 

Finally Anora let out a sigh, “If you must. It’s been so long since I slept that well.”

A shadow passed over Elissa’s face, but the Warden didn’t pull away. In fact she simply pressed her face downwards into Anora’s neck, her hands gripping Anora’s body tightly. Anora noticed the shift and kept her arms tight around Elissa’s form, pressing a kiss to the top of her auburn hair. 

Anora could only wonder what type of scenes haunted Elissa.

* * *

 

Sat ontop of his large warhorse, Fergus lead the way with the small collection of soldiers on horseback. Following one of the many side roads that crossed across the Stormcoast, it was the less travelled way to House Becker’s seat of Ashworth. A small town and port that rested along the coast. 

Befitting the name of the region, a heavy rainstorm clouded the skies and switched in between heavy moments of rain and a light drizzle.

On either side of him, Gilmore and Iona trotted alongside him ontop of their horses. Gilmore’s eyes scanned back and forth over the landscape, “Fucking hate this place. It’s always fucking raining.”

“So cheerful.” Iona teased out loud, sending a smirk over towards the redhead. 

Gilmore chuckled loudly and winked at Iona, “I always hear you elves are flexible. Wish to show me?”

“Never.”

Fergus’s hands tightened around the reins of his horse.. He was on edge, he knew he should be hiding it but he couldn’t. After all the months of living in the hills and fighting it was finally coming down to the final days and weeks. The usual light hearted banter between the two only annoyed him any further. 

Clearing a bend, the path headed straight down towards the coast, where the sleepy port of Ashworth laid. Coming from the direction of the Port was a column of mounted soldiers and knights. The banners of House Becker flapping in the wind, a white thunderbolt on a field of black. 

“Let me speak, perhaps they’re just on patrol.” Fergus shot a look in between Iona and Gilmore, before starting up on the road once more. 

They were halfway along the long road when the two parties came into closer distance. The leader of the House Becker was not someone Fergus recognized, simply another knight. The leader lifted his hand up and called out, “Oh, halt! What brings such a party this far close to Ashworth?”

The 30 House Becker soldiers came to stop opposite to Fergus and his party. Gilmore glanced in between the men, his hand resting near the top of his axe where it was strapped into the horse saddle. 

Fergus lifted his hand in return, “We seek a meeting with Lord Becker.”

“His Lordship doesn’t usually take random armed parties in his dining room.” The man scanned along the party, noticing Gilmore staring at them. The knight looked pass Fergus towards his own men. All dressed in heavy worn cloaks, the hilts of their weapons poking out in different spots. 

Fergus moved his hand up to flip his hood off. His long hair becoming wet from the heavy rain falling from above them, “My name is Fergus Cousland. Last I checked House Becker was loyal bannermen to my Father, Bryce Cousland.”

The knight’s eyes went wide, Fergus wasn’t sure if he had seen the man before but it seemed the dramatic move had at least shooked the knight, “Fergus Cousland died at Ostagar.”

“We Couslands are not easy to kill.”

* * *

Fergus could remember his Father saying that Lord Harrison Becker was old even when he was a young man during the Rebellion. Standing in the middle of the Lord’s Hall, Gilmore and Iona flanked either side of him with a few of his guards allowed in. 

With pale skin wrinkly from his advanced age, Lord Harrison still had a certain strength about him even with his age. Sat at the Lord’s table on a raised platform, he took his breakfast allowing Fergus to stand in silence. Not that far off from Harrison was his youngest son, the knight they had met on the road, Stuart. 

Licking his fingers clean from the chicken grease, Harrison moved the plate off to the side and folded his hands onto the table, “The common people are making you out as some folk warhero. The ghost of Fergus Cousland returned from the dead to kill Thomas Howe. I didn’t believe it.”

“7 feet tall and shooting thunderbolts from his ass.” Stuart commented and then gave a chuckle. 

“I assume it was you then behind this Resistance?” Harrison spoke directly to Fergus.

“Gilmore was the one that started it. I came some weeks later. A few of the Lords loyal to my Father resisted Howe’s rule from the start.” Fergus attempted to keep his voice even, hands clasping in front of his body. 

Harrison looked from Fergus to the tall ginger next to him, “I remember you, from the last tournament at Highever. You won.”

“Aye, and now I am in the business of killing.”

Harrison gave a snort but was pleased by Gilmore’s answer, leaning back into his chair, “I know why you are here. It is the same reason Thomas keeps sending ravens demanding for my troops.”

“The noose is tightening around his neck, he knows that I am coming for him.”

A smirk played onto the elder man’s face, “You lack the men and you know it. It’s the only reason you’re standing before me.”

“House Becker owes its fealty to the Couslands and..”

Harrison snorted and shook his head, “The Lord Regent with royal authority named House Howe the Lords of Highever. You are nothing more than a pretender now.”

Fergus’s jaw clenched, a flash of anger rushing through him, “It is my home. You know what they did, they attacked under the guise of friendship. Do you truly think Thomas will allow  you to live with the stalling games you’re playing?”

Stuart shifted slightly, sending a look over towards his father, “Father, you know what Thomas has done to the other Lords.”

Harrison’s eyes snapped to his son, the man shrinked down and took a small step backwards, “And what will I get in return?”

Fergus was not surprised by Harrison’s bluntness. The Lord’s hooded eyes staring down at Fergus from his spot up at the table. It didn’t make it any easier nor calm the rising anger inside of him. How many months had he spent fighting, his Family slaughtered and yet Harrison only had his hand out demanding. 

“If you are to lend me your men in battle, when I take Highever I will double your land here. Stretch across the coast towards Amantharine.”

Harrison took a few moments to think over Fergus’s offer but shook his head, “No. In return for my troops you will name me Arl of Amantharine for my loyalty. House Becker will replace House Howe as it’s rulers.”

Gilmore cursed something under his breath and Iona sent a glance Fergus’s way. How much loyal would Becker be compared to the Howes?

But did he have a choice, he needed the troops if they were going to defeat Thomas. A part of him worried that it was a trap, but by the look Stuart sent his father’s way, perhaps House Becker was without allies themselves. 

“My Father spoke highly of you, Harrison Becker. Your Family have always been loyal to the Couslands, for generations your House fought loyally next to mine. And when that friendship is being asked to be honored, you attempt to bargain with the few things I have left.”

Fergus moved closer now, Harrison shifted back into his seat, “You have refused the call of Howe, my sister bears down on the capital with an army worthy of legends behind her. And you attempt to play games with me.” Fergus’s voice boomed at the last part. 

Fergus came to stand just across from the raised platform. Placing his hands down ontop of the table, “I have spent the past months fighting against Howe while you sat in your hold and grew fat. You will give me your troops and in return for such loyalty, your lands will be increased, your son Stuart brought to mentor under me at Highever. And you will be so thankful for having a merciful Lord and not Rendon Howe.”

“Or I swear on the fucking Maker what I am going to do to Thomas Howe is going to be kind to what I will do to you.” 

Silence filled the room, the hands of the different soldiers and guards moving to the hilts of their weapons. Fergus’s stare bearing down on Harrison. 

Harrison’s head nodded slowly, his hand coming to rest under his chin, “You are your Father’s son.”

The elder man pulled his chair back and stood, his head still nodding slowly, “Aye, yes you are. I agree to the terms, we will crush Howe and the last of his men.”

* * *

 

“He knew he had no option.” Iona commented, Fergus and her moved down the Keep’s hallway to the rooms they were given by Becker.

“I don’t trust it still. What is stopping him from killing us in our sleep? Giving our bodies to Howe will save him.” Fergus’s eyes scanned up and down each door they passed. 

Before the elf could respond one of the doors further up at the hallway opened, Stuart Becker stepped out and headed in the direction of the two. He stopped a few feet in front of Fergus and Iona, “We have sent out the ravens, it will only take a few days for the men to gather.”

“And I wonder just where those ravens are going to.” Fergus said quite bluntly, hand resting on the hilt of his sword at his side. 

Stuart tried his best to smile but shook his head, “He’s impressed, I think. I was surprised he demanded that of you to begin with.”

“And what of you, Ser Stuart?” Iona asked from her spot next to Fergus, a small smile playing to the corner of her lips. 

“My eldest Brother wanted to lie low, he’s gone off to the Landsmeet because my Father is too old to travel that distance. I thought from the start we should’ve declared for the Cousland Loyalists, but my Father wanted to protect us, the Family. Maybe seeing Lord Cousland with such fight in him made him realize it’s worth attempting.”

Fergus’s features softened at the honesty in Stuart’s voice. He felt a shiver of shame rushing over him as the young man gave Fergus a smile. 

“Perhaps I was a bit rough with him..”

“Nay, maybe he was testing you. The rumors were just rumors before but now, there’s hope again.”

Fergus could see Iona sending Fergus’s a look. But the man’s face had fallen to stare at his feet, “Will you lead House Becker troops into battle?”

“Aye, Father wishes to come but his age will stop him. It’ll take a bit to get everyone here and to ensure Howe doesn’t find out too soon. It’ll be an honor to fight next to you.” The young man gave a short bow and started down the hallway again, leaving Fergus and Iona behind. 

“You’re too rough.” Iona said once Stuart had turned the corner of the hallway, leaving the pair alone again. 

“I am too rough. I am too soft. I can never please either you or Gilmore.” Fergus grunted, turned and headed down the hallway in search for his room. 

“You need to strike a balance, Fergus. Threatening Lord Becker like that was risky. Lucky it paid off. But what of next time when it doesn’t.” The blonde elf had clasped her hands behind her back as the pair walked. 

Fergus’s jaw clenched shut, his teeth grinding together, “What else could I’ve done, Iona? Just give him the Arling?.”

Iona was stopped from speaking when Fergus turned on her in the hallway. His large shadow dwarfing her slender build, “I am tired of trying to find a  _ balance _ . Of playing these fuckin’ games with all the ‘great Houses of Highever’. I have lost  _ too much _ to fail now.” 

Iona didn’t flinch away from Fergus. She was the only one next to Gilmore who could stand toe to toe with man, “I have lost just as much as you have, Fergus. We all did that night. But we can not and must not allow that anger to blind us in these final hours.”

Fergus’s hazel eyes lingered on Iona’s face before quickly twisting his body away and started down the hallway again, “Perhaps you’re right.”

Iona followed after the Teyrn. The man staying silent as he opened the door to his room and allowed Iona to follow him in. 

He stayed silent as he removed his sword belt from his hips. Resting it onto a small dining table where a platter of food was already waiting for him alongside a pitcher of wine. Pouring the pair a glass each, Fergus approached back to where the elf stood watching Fergus carefully. 

Once Iona had accepted the glass, Fergus took a long tip from his, “I didn’t mean to…”

“I know, Fergus.” Iona’s voice was soft. 

Fergus turned away from Iona again. Eyes looking over the room as he wandered around lost in his thoughts, “It’s almost over, isn’t it?”

“Hopefully.” Iona slowly approached Fergus. The man went  to stare out one of the windows in the room, looking out over the rolling hills of the Stormcoast. 

“Has there been any word about Amethyne? I know you have sent a few to find her.” 

Iona’s skin grew paler at the sound of her daughter's name. Taking a much longer gulp from her glass of wine, “No. All my people can find out is that the Alienage is in turmoil. I trust Cyrion to keep her safe no matter what.”

Turning around, the pair were barely a foot apart. Fergus’s eyes had soften now, a complete opposite of the anger that burned in them a few minutes ago, “You know Gilmore and I will help you find her after this is over.’

“Your place is here.”

“And your place is with me.”

Silence stretched out between the pair at Fergus’s soft spoken words. Iona dropped her eyes to stare at her feet. Feeling Fergus take the glass of wine out of her hand and placing it on the windowsill behind him, she leaned closer into him.

“Fergus…”

“Don’t, Iona. Not again.” Fergus’s large hands moved to gently grasp Iona’s hips, pulling the elf to him. 

“We can’t. We said last time it would be the last time.” But Iona made no move to step away from Fergus, allowing her to be pulled into his arms. 

“I don’t care.” The words were whispered against Iona’s lips before he claimed them into a slow kiss. 

The fight died in the pit of Iona’s throat when Fergus twisted the pair and lifted Iona up onto the windowsill. The kiss deepening and Iona’s hands going to unlace Fergus’s pants.

* * *

 

Elissa knew that Wynne was staring at her. Ever since she had disappeared last night and reappeared early the next morning. The Warden was glad at least the shaking had stopped but the hours alone with Anora only helped a small bit when it came to coming to grips of what happened. 

Slipping into one of the smaller guest bedrooms, Elissa cracked her knuckles on the doorframe. Laid out on the bed underneath the soft covers was Kallian, with Wynne inspecting over her and surprising, Richard Decker standing not that far off. 

The mage ignored the sound and focused on the spell she was casting. It was Decker that glanced over at Elissa and motioned for her to enter, “Warden.”

“I am surprised to see you here.” Elissa said in a low whisper, not wishing to distract Wynne. 

“I knew her, before whatever Howe did to her. She was a favorite of the Elder of the Alienage, Valendrian. Bit of a troublemaker but a good girl.” Decker responded quietly, his eyes moving from Kallian and to Elissa. 

“Do you know why Howe..?”

“I suppose you heard of what happened to the Kendells?’

Elissa shrugged and shook her head, “Eamon told me that Urien was along the dead at Ostagar. I know he had a son, Vaughan. Hated him as a child.”

“As the reports go, Kallian was due to be married, arranged but married nevertheless. The army was already on the march to Ostagar, leaving Vaughan as the acting Arl of Derniem.”

“I heard of the rumors all the way to Highever about Vaughan and his hobbies.”

“They were correct. He took a special  _ liking _ to Kallian. He heard she was to be married and marched into the Alienage. Killed the husbands to be and kidnapped Kallian and a few other women. Dragged them back to the Arl’s estate.”

“Now, it was after that word came to me that Vaughan had been terrorizing the Alienage again. I gathered a collection of guards and started my way towards the estate. I cared little who his father was, my job was to keep order.”

“When I arrived it was a bloodbath. Kallian had attacked and broken free from her guards. Marched through the estate, killed Vaughan and his friends. She then escaped into the City.”

Elissa’s eyes moved from Decker to where Kallian still lied sleeping. It seemed they had more in common than thought, “Why didn’t I hear of this?”

“Myself and the Queen attempted to control the situation the best we could. We had to keep the peace when the King was at Ostagar. We locked down the Alienage but it didn’t stop the story from spreading all across the City. There were riots on both sides calling for blood.”

“Her Majesty was trying to be careful with the situation. With the Army routed at Ostagar, near dozens of Houses killed there, she couldn’t just give the order to enforce peace with a few thousand guards. It was then Loghain arrived back from the South.” Decker finished with a sigh, scratching his cheek with his hand. 

“He named Howe Arl of Denerim, named himself Lord Regent and threw Her Majesty to the side. Howe didn’t allow the guards to patrol the alienage. Talk spurted up that there was a plague sweeping the alienage. During it all, Kallian had just disappeared. I had thought she fled the City.”

“Howe must've found her.” Elissa’s eyes looked back to Decker’s. 

“What he did to her, it wasn’t equal justice.” Decker shook his head and sighed. 

“Is there a way to get word to her Family?”

“I’m not sure. The alienage is guarded by Loghain’s men. It could be possible now, with the political climate changing.”

Elissa left the former Guard Colonel at the back of the room and approached the bed. Wynne finished her healing spell and sat in a small stool next to the bedside. Elissa took her spot next side Wynne and looked down on the sleeping elf. 

“How is she?”

“I should be asking that of you.” Wynne whispered out softly, her hand going to drop into her lap. 

Elissa cleared her throat, she wasn’t ready to speak of what had happened, “I’ll survive.”

“Living is different than surviving, Elissa.” Wynne hissed out before shaking her head. The elder mage seemed tired and worn out. 

“You need to sleep, Wynne. Or you won't be around anymore to remind me what I am supposed to be doing.”

Wynne smiled weakly but didn’t moved from the stool, “She was the worse of the three. Oswyn and Riordan only had minor injuries compared to her.”

Elissa moved her eyes from the elder mage to go back to studying the sleeping elven woman. She looked better than she did when they found her. Bathed, some coloring had returned to her skin. Blonde hair free of any dirt, “I feared as much.”

“It will take her weeks to recover. With the internal bleeding she had, I am not sure how she’s alive.” Wynne whispered in a soft voice. 

“At least we had you then. Go get some sleep, Wynne. Someone will alert you if she changes.” Elissa gave the mage a light pat on her shoulder and turned to leave. 

She was stopped by one of Wynne’s hand slipping into one of her hers. Elissa looked back down, Wynne giving her hand a tight squeeze. 

On her way to the main dining hall, Alistair came fast walking from the other direction, clapping his hands together when he saw Elissa, “Riordan wishes to speak to us.” 

“Why are you running?”

“Well,..”

“Where is that oversized ogre monkey!” Morrigan's voice echoed from the direction of the kitchens alongside the steady sound of laughter. 

Elissa raised a brow at her fellow Warden and Alistair only winked at her, motioning for her to follow to where the older Warden’s room was. 

In contrast to Elissa’s calm silence, Alistair peeked over his shoulder a few times in the direction they came from, “Where did you go off last night?”

She appreciated that Alistair didn’t simply ask her if she was okay after what she did. Elissa’s eyes kept on the hallway in front of her, a faint red blush coming to her lips, “I needed time to myself. I met with the Queen.”

A grin played on the corners of Alistair’s lips, the man wagging his eyebrows at her, “Just a  _ meeting _ ?”

Elissa eyes snapped around the hallway, a few doors were opened to different servant quarters, anyone could be listening on the other side. Paired with Eamon’s earlier actions in delaying sending help to Anora, Elissa was not so out of practice that she couldn’t see the plot that was growing.

She couldn’t blame Alistair, though he was a royal bastard, he never had to deal with the Court games. 

Elissa only sent a look at her  fellow Warden before they finally stopped in front the door that lead to Riordan's room. Knocking once and hearing the man’s muffled voice calling them in, Elissa entered first followed by Alistair, whose smile had dropped now. 

Standing in the middle of the room, the Senior Warden seemed to have just finished dressing himself. He held a slight limp in his leg but overall seemed better from what she saw of him in Howe’s estate. 

“I must thank you, Warden Elissa. Your Spirit Healer Wynne truly knows how to get someone on their feet again.” The man’s heavy accent greeted them once the door was shut behind the pair. 

“Alistair said you needed to speak to us?” Elissa’s hands came to rest on her sword belt, eyes glancing in between the two men. 

“Do either of you have the key to the Warden vault here in the Capital?”

The other two looked in between each other for several long seconds before looking back to the Senior Warden. Riordan sighed loudly and shook his head, “That complicates things.”

“What is this vault? Some kind of armory?” Elissa looked from Alistar to Riordan.

“It holds all the funds, weapons, armor, and documents for the Order here in the Kingdom. I only been there a few times.” Alistair explained while Riordan seemed to be thinking on what to say next. 

“Elissa you were only in the Order for a few days but Alistair, did Duncan ever tell you of how Grey Wardens are truly created?”

Silence fell over the room, Alistar’s brows folding together, “They drink darkspawn blood. We all know it.”

“Correct, but another blood is required. Archdemon blood. With the use of magic it’s infused together to make the liquid we all drank.” 

Taking the silence as a sign of to explain, Riordan motioned in between the two of them, “The Order has a supply of it for making new Wardens. Gathering regular darkspawn blood is easy enough but the Archdemon blood is key to the Joining. It’s kept under lock and key. Every local Order is different but it is usually the Warden-Commander that keeps the only key.”

“I remember Duncan taking a number of vials with him. He had one of the mages cast a spell on them. Is it possible he used it up?”

“Not likely. The Order keeps a tight lookout on the numbers. The Ferelden Wardens should have nearly four crates of it. I was only given a few vials before I left for the Ferelden border.”

Elissa finally spoke up, her eyes narrowing at the Senior Warden, “And why is it important now? Alistair and I have done well as the only two Grey Wardens.”

“There are only three of us in the entire Kingdom. In past Blights entire Armies have been lead by hundreds of Wardens. We are key in defeating an Archdemon.."

Elissa sighed and leaned against a nearby dresser, rubbing her temples with her fingers, “Even if we had the key who could we conscript into the Wardens? The Joining kills more than it grants.”

“It is a miracle that your company has survived this long without any of them being affected by the Taint.”

Alistair nodded his head, “We are careful about who cleans the armor and weapons afterwards.”

Elissa could feel that headache coming back to her, settling in the back of her neck and moving up to her skull, “We will have to make do with what we have.”

“Quite right, Elissa. You both have done something against the odds. Rallied an Army from nothing and now hopefully we shall have a ruler with the power to marshal the rest of the numbers we need. It is something that will go down in history.”

“It was all Elissa.” Alistair said simply, giving the woman a small grin.

The Senior Warden moved his eyes from Alistair’s and caught Elissa’s eyes. The auburn haired woman leaned against the dresser with arms crossed over her chest, “There was rumors saying that the First Warden planned to name you Commander of the Grey here in Ferelden.”

“Troops might’ve helped. Supplies, money, but sure, I’ll go with a title that means next to nothing.”

“I understand you were forced into the Order..”

Elissa gently pushed herself off of the dresser and came into the man’s personal space. Her eyes narrowing, “I left my dying parents because Duncan refused to help us unless he got his recruit. The only reason I stayed was because it was the right thing to do. And while me and Alistair were called traitors, the rest of the Order stayed on the other side of the border while a  _ Blight was going on. _ ”

The Senior Warden kept Elissa’s stare, he did take a small step back, he knew what she could do, “The Order is not so easily separated from, Elissa. It is not the life you wanted but it is your life now. But matters not if we all die fighting the Archdemon, there’s little point for this conversation.”

Elissa let out a loud breath of hot air and moved back. She was already emotional making her already bad anger issues worse. It wasn’t worth the fight about the failures of the rest of the Grey Wardens. 

It was Alistair that cut through the uneasy silence that had formed, “We are both thankful for the help.”

The older man only smiled and shook his head, “It is I that should be saying thank you. If it was not for Elissa I would still be in Howe’s Dungeons. We are Brothers and Sisters bounded with the same blood. Let us not forget that.”

* * *

 

It was times like these that she appreciated Duran. Walking through the streets of the Market District heading to Wade’s Blacksmith, the dwarf didn’t attempt to talk to her, he didn’t give her looks of pity, he was simply that silent figure next to her. 

She forgot sometimes how old the dwarf was. Entering his mid 30’s he acted as old as Wynne compared to the rest of them. He did not speak much of his time wandering the Deep Roads but it was obvious the effect it had on him. 

Elissa couldn’t picture how she would've reacted if it had been Fergus that killed her parents, tried to kill her to take Highever. There was always the talk that the nobles wanted her to rule in his place but the thought of him going to such lengths had never entered her mind. 

“I am not sure anymore.” Elissa found herself saying out loud.

The dwarf looked up from underneath his bushy eyebrows, “Aye and what brought that along?”

Elissa wasn’t sure why she was talking, Duran always made her feel comfortable that he understood. It was a similar feeling between her and Anora, one of the reasons they first became friends, “Since that night, in the back of my mind, everything lead to finding Howe. And now I have it, I have what I always wanted but I can’t help but to feel…”

Elissa trailed off with a sigh, her words failing her.

“Empty.” Duran’s answer finished her thought.

“I remember through my lovely time I was stuck in the Deep Roads all I craved to do was kill my Brother. I didn’t care anymore that he was Family nor what it would mean to me. When I saw him again in the Assembly Room, it all flashed, that anger. He came straight to me because he thought...he thought a great many of things.”

“It was later that night that I realized how much I had lost. My entire Family was dead, every happy memory of my childhood broken, twisted, tainted by Bhelen…”

Elissa stumbled over her words, unsure on what she wanted to say. But the woman was stopped again when Duran spoke, “You close your eyes when the nightmares start and when you finally wake up, you don’t know who you are anymore.” 

Elissa fell silenced once more. Allowing the silence to fill the rest of the way to Wade’s shop. Opening the door, Elissa followed the dwarf into the quiet shop. 

The blonde haired man behind the counter narrowed his eyes at Duran, “I see you got the message then.”

Duran chuckled at the shop assistant, he seemed to find the other man’s obvious dislike funny, “Aye, I was surprised Wade finished this quickly.”

“He hasn’t slept since you came in the other day,” Harold’s eyes moved from staring at the dwarf to Elissa’s, “Lady Cousland, your armor is quite a masterpiece.”

Elissa would've usually simply stared at the man but Duran’s words still stuck with her. Instead, she found herself giving a small forced smile and nodding her head, “I wasn’t aware it was being made for me, I had told Duran here to  have as many sets of armor made.”

Before Harold could respond, Wade appeared from his inside workshop. He looked weathered and tired but there was a spark in his eyes, which went wide once he saw Elissa and Duran.

“Master Duran! Your gifts are nearly completed!”

‘You mean  _ work _ , Wade…” Harold mumbled to himself, the man shaking his head. 

Duran seemed too amused with everything that was going on and only motioned for Elissa to follow after Wade who had disappeared back into his workshop. 

Wade’s workshop looked much like one would think as the inside section of a blacksmith, even with a door that lead to a an outside forge. Three armor stands stood in the center of the room, each with a white sheet over them. 

“It took many attempts but it had to be perfect. It was a once in a lifetime chance to work with drake scales and dragon bones.” The blacksmith was talking to the both of them but mumbled as if he was talking to himself also. 

Elissa never knew the master blacksmith Wade was so extremely erratic. 

Harold made his way into the workshop with his hands cupped behind his back, “We had to close the shop for the length of this  _ project _ .”

“Don’t mind, Harold, he just doesn’t understand the struggle of the craft.” Wade spoke to Duran, motioning for the two to come closer to the covered armor stands. 

Duran shared a look with Elissa, the Warden shaking her head and allowing the dwarf to be the speaker, “It’s alright, Wade. Let’s see what you did.”

“It took try and error to find the right heat to use, the correct way to work the scales. I am sadden to say that I wasted too much but finally, I crafted two sets of strong drakescale armor.” Wade dramatically paused and then tore the two sheets off of the armor stands. 

Elissa had to admit that the armor looked good. The dark drake scales shined in the low light and looked like it could take a high level of abuse, “I crafted them in such a way that they can be tightened or loosened depending on the body. But no one too short or it’ll simply be a dress.” 

“I can already see Zevran and Leliana wearing them.” Elissa commented to Duran who had moved closer to inspect the armor. 

Duran nodded his head in agreement, sharing a look with Wade. The blacksmith shot both the dwarf and Elissa a smile, going to stand next to the last covered armor stand, “Master Duran had your measurements supplied too, Lady Cousland, I do hope the armor is what you desired.”

Elissa arched a brow and Duran gave a smile, “Surprise.”

With that Wade moved the sheet off the armor stand, Elissa’s breath was nearly taken from her throat. A white-red hue set of plate armor rested on the stand. The style of it reminded her much of the Warden armor the other Wardens had worn at Ostagar. With smaller shoulder pauldrons and a full chest piece that protected her front. The classic Ferelden styled burgonet helmet completed with a visor that protected much of the welder's face. 

It was then her eyes went wide at the sigil on the breastplate. Standing out in gold coloring was the Cousland laurel and in it’s center, also colored in gold, was the Grey Warden griffon. 

Wade moved from behind the stand and moved something from one of his workbenches, a similarly colored shield bearing the same sigil too

“It was a challenge to find the proper heat level to be able to melt and form the dragon bone. I ended up using silverite too,” Wade explained, motioning to the different parts on the armor, “The first step was making it functional and comfortable for combat but still holding as Master Duran said, ‘style’.”

Elissa came closer, taking the shield from Wade’s hand and running her fingers over the laurel. But before Elissa could attempt to thank the man for the masterpiece, Wade was not finished yet. 

Disappearing from view once more, he came back forward with a sword in a black scabbard. She knew the hilt from anywhere, her Family’s sword. The one she had shattered months ago during combat, she never bothered to ask Mikhael to fix it. Their funds were tight and making Starfang seemed she was already taking from the man.

Wade drew the sword, the white blade shined in the low light, “The reforged blade of the Couslands. I used all the shards that were given and used silverite to reforge the rest.” Wade placed the sword back into the scabbard and handed it over to Elissa. 

Tears were starting to pool in her green eyes, blinking them back, her hand gripped the sword tightly. Starfang was her sword now, but to have her Family’s sword back, reforged after shattering. 

Emotion choked in her throat, closing her eyes and speaking softly,  _ “Thank you.” _

Elissa enjoyed the feel of the armor on her, Wade was truly beyond a master in his art. Even without measuring her himself, he got it just right. Allowing full movement, surprisingly lightweight for nearly full plate armor, she couldn’t stop feeling that it just felt  _ right _ on her.

“You didn’t have to do that, Duran.” Elissa looked down to the dwarf, she had left the visor open on her helm, not wishing to muffle her voice or hide her appearance. 

After forcing Wade to accept payment and then some for the amazing work he did, Harold had a few of the shop boys move the other two sets of armor to Eamon’s estate, Elissa couldn’t hold herself back from dressing herself in her new armor. 

It felt like the suit of armor her Father had made for her years ago. The past year had not given her the chance nor funds to have her own armor made, forcing her and the others to wear what armor they could find. Even the set Eamon had given her was too heavy for her frame.

“Aye but I wanted to. I know you’re emotionally connected to Starfang like a baby to a tit but that sword needed to be reforged. And you know just as well as me the power of cutting an appearance for the sake of politics.” He motioned to the appearance she cut in the armor. She was in fact attracting more than a few stares, simply from the quality of the armor. 

Elissa couldn’t help to smile and nodded in agreement, “Let us hope no one died while we were on our shopping trip.”

“For the love of the Stone, don’t call it that. Leliana will give me those puppy eyes and then Alistair will come over saying we have to take her next time.”

* * *

 

The war room of Highever was deathly silent. The various minor Lords, Banns and army commanders looking up and down the length of the table. Trying their hardest not to look in the direction of Thomas who sat at the head of the table. 

“My Lord, a raven has arrived from the Capital.” 

Thomas’s attention turned from the spread out warmap and to Marcus where he stood with the small scroll, “And what does it say, my dear Marcus.”

The young noble looked nervous and no small part, fearful. Thomas’s icy blue eyes holding their attention on Marcus, “I...it’s from Captain Chase, my Lord.”

“And why is it the Captain of my Father’s Household guard feels entitled enough to write to me personally?” 

“It’s your Father, my Lord. Captain Chase reports that the Warden Cousland marched through his estate and killed him.”

The gathered bannermen took a collective breath, looking anywhere that wasn’t Thomas’s direction. Waiting for the anger shouting, the screaming and yelling. None of them wanted to be in the direct path of an angry Thomas Howe. 

Every head snapped in Thomas’s direction when the young Lord began to chuckle. The man hadn’t moved an inch in his seat, his fingers still sprayed across his cheek, “Bryce Cousland’s little spitfire. Did you know my Father tried arranging a marriage between us? It's where my fondness of redheads comes from.” 

No one wanted to directly comment on that. 

“My Lord, your sister…”

“My sister is a craven fool who hides in Vigil Keep. And my  _ dear _ brother Nathaniel prefers the shit smelling Free Marches to Ferelden. I am my Father’s heir,  _ no one else _ .” Thomas hissed out to Marcus. 

Marcus only bent his head down, falling into silence. 

Thomas used the silence to raise to his feet. The sound of the wooden chair legs stretching across the cold stone floor echoed off the walls of the room. His hands going to grip the edge of the table, “Send a letter to my sister. She will either swear fealty to me as her new Lord or she will be arrested for treason.”

“My Lord, is that…”

Thomas’s head snapped to where Lord Aurelius stood. The man quickly realized his mistake and attempted to break eye contact with Thomas. 

“Is there something you didn’t understand by that  _ order _ , Lord Aurelius?”

“No, my Lord, I simply…”

“Yes, I understand that you’re a simpleton. But your loyal service to my Family has been for generations. Unless you plan on breaking that fealty? Perhaps you would prefer my sister? Marrying her would make you an important Lord and everyone will forget that you rule over some backwater shithole.”

That silenced Aurelius back into his place, only bowing his upper body to Thomas. 

Thomas scanned back over the table, daring anyone else to question him, “I will finish uniting Highever much like my Father did during the rebellion and crush this Cousland Army then march onto the Capital to have this Warden answer for her crimes. Go, spread the word. I am now the Lord Howe, Teyrn of Highever, Arl of Amaranthine and Denerim.” 


	4. Chapter 4

The smell of burning flesh filled the early morning cool air. The golden rows of wheat that would be nearing the time to  harvest were now instead bathed in a lake of bright red flames. 

Rows of men-at-arms marched through the fields, spreading the flames further and further. A thick plume of black smoke darkening the morning sky. 

The dead bodies of the farm family and farm hands were burning in a large pile of charred corpses. A few woman screams echoed above the sound of burning as Howe’s men took extra time with killing the few surviving women. 

Thomas watched the raising red flames from upon his warhorse. A small collection of mounted men-at-arms watching the scene in silence while the smirk on Thomas’s features twisted into a large full smile. 

The black haired man dismounted from his horse, the few guards doing the same and going to grab the reins of their Lord’s horse. Thomas tucked his hands behind his back and started to walk down the dirt path that lead to a large red barn. 

A woman’s sharp cry and then the grumbling sound of a throat being cut greeted Thomas as he strolled into the barn. The soldier in the barn gave a deep bow of his head, “Mi’lord.”

Thomas only spared a pasting glance to the soldier and the dead woman’s body shoved into the pile of hay. Instead his attention was on the carts of grain that were stored away in the barn, “What’s your name, soldier?”

The men-at-arms approached slowly to Thomas. The air was cool in the barn, a shiver running down the soldier’s spine. Looking from Thomas’s back to where the woman’s body laid and then back to Thomas, “E..ee..Erick, mi’lord.”

“Erick, do you know how we win a war?” Thomas didn’t glance over his shoulder to the man, his eyes still on the carts of food.

“By defeating the enemy?”

A flash of annoyance passed over Thomas’s face, unseen by Erick, “Yes, but  _ how _ .”

“By killing their armies, mi’lord.”

“And if that was true then how did my Father win so many battles during the rebellion? There’s many ways to defeat an enemy. The Osleain empire can call upon nearly 90,000 soldiers into the field. The rebels couldn’t face that in open combat. How they won the  _ war  _ was starving them, not allowing them a single moment of rest. They made the price of victory  _ too high _ .” 

Thomas finally looked over his shoulder, motioning for Erick to come closer. The soldier knew he didn’t have a choice and came to stand side by side the young Lord, “I...is that why you are ordering to burn the fields?”

“Correct, Erick. I have a feeling the fall will be short this season and a harsh winter is upon us. The darkspawn horde are burning the south, their fields and lands sacked. This right here is how we win, Erick.” Thomas threw an arm around the soldier’s shoulders and pulled him closer to him. 

“And I like winning.”

* * *

 

When the two had made it back to Eamon’s estate, it was well past lunch time. Elissa was glad that after the events at Howe’s estate it seemed like it was to be a quiet day. Eamon was gone, visiting different nobles in the district and elsewhere in the City. 

She had made for her own bedroom but half way there she was stopped by a familiar voice coming from behind her, “You certainty have the dashing heroine part down, don’t you?”

Elissa turned to see Anora standing just inside of the doorway of her own rooms. Elissa scanned around the hallway quickly, finding it otherwise empty, the Warden made closer to the Queen, slipping into her rooms with the Queen locking the door behind them. 

Slipping the silver-red helm off her head, Elissa placed the helm on a small table and attempted to reach up to undo her single braid. 

Anora seemed to have the similar idea. Reaching up onto her tiptoes, the blonde’s long pale fingers moved through Elissa’s auburn hair, slowly unweaving it and allowing it to flow freely, “Do you like it then?” Elissa asked in a soft voice. 

“You certainty look the part now.” Anora finished unbraiding Elissa’s hair and reached over to press a kiss to Elissa’s cheek. 

Anora stepped away, catching Elissa resting two different sword down to lean against the table, “Are two swords really necessary?”

Elissa gave a sort of half grin that only made Anora’s smile grow larger, the redhead shaking her head, “The Cousland’s blade. It was broken when I was using it. It was dumb luck that the next day I stumbled across the material to make Starfang. Duran had Wade reforge it.”

Elissa drew the silver-white blade and presented the hilt out to Anora. The woman was the daughter of Loghain Mac Tir after all and knew how to handle a sword. The Queen’s hand grasped the hilt and lifted the blade up, giving a few swings to cut through the air, “Speaking of which, there’s an….interesting piece of news coming out of Highever.”

The Warden nearly arched a brow at Anora’s obvious attempt to abridge the two conversations. Something she only did poorly when she was nervous. Taking Elissa not speaking, Anora started again, her eyes still focused on the blade, “How much do you know of the situation in Highever?”

Elissa shook her head, “Cousland Loyalists have been and are still fighting against Thomas Howe who has ruled in his Father’s stead.” 

Anora nodded, handing the sword back to Elissa. When Elissa’s hand went to attempt to take the hilt from Anora, the Queen stepped closer, the two hands being clasped together with the hilt in between them, “Your brother might be alive, Ellie. It was always rumored but news is spreading that he captured a fort in the highlands, rallies the Lords to his banner and is going to march on Thomas. I believe the rumors true.”

Elissa was thankful for Anora’s close presence or she might’ve fell forward. Their eyes met as Elissa’s hand tighten around Anora’s. She couldn’t find her voice and tried to use her eyes to do the talking for her.

“I wanted to tell you because the Lords and Ladies of Highever had begun to call on you here in the Capital. I will do everything in my power to find out if the rumors are By the Maker true, but until then, you are the rightful heir to the Couslands.”

Elissa carefully moved the sword away from the two, resting it on a nearby couch before going to gently press her forehead to Anora’s.

“I want to believe it’s true.” Elissa’s soft voice finally whispered out, “But if it’s not and I allow myself to hope….I can’t leave here to see if it is or if it isn’t, no matter how much I wish I could.”

“I’ll find a way, Ellie. I swear I’ll find a way to find out the truth.”

Elissa moved away from Anora, her hands starting to shake once more. Anora reached out for her, “There’s much that we need to do, Ellie, before the Landsmeet…”

Something flared in Elissa, twisting and facing Anora. Elissa’s form shadowed Anora’s slender body in a dress. The redhead lifted a single armored finger up and pointed it in Anora’s direction, “No, you don’t get to do this. You don’t get to get my hopes up and hold it out like a dog with a bone.”

Hurt flashed across Anora’s face from the sudden and rather confusing attack by Elissa. The Queen took a step backwards but Elissa hunted after her, “Do I not even get a day of rest? For months everyone had only had their hands bent out to me, taking, wanting, demanding more from me. In return for what?”

Elissa had forced Anora to back up until the point that the Queen’s back hit a small end table. Her blue eyes narrowing onto Elissa, reason being forgotten in the heat of the moment, “After  _ everything _ you would really think I would do that to you?”

Elissa couldn’t keep Anora’s stare, she suddenly found herself not being able to be in the same room as Anora. Grabbing her helm and Starfang, Elissa disappeared from the room, and once the door had shut, the tears began to pool and show in Anora’s blue orbs. Staring at the closed door.

* * *

  
Elissa knew she should be attempting to sleep but it didn’t come to her. It was something she was used to, nightmares haunted her when she slept. The last night being one of the few times in the past months she had actually gotten a full night of sleep. 

She tossed and turned until she came to rest on her back. Hands folding onto her stomach, her eyes stared up at the dark ceiling. Duran’s words from earlier that day still stuck with her, she was on the other side wasn’t she? Howe was dead. She could be that girl from before. 

But this head full of memories from her life before didn’t seem to belong to her anymore. Who she was before, it didn’t  _ fit _ . It didn’t  _ feel right _ . It was easy with Anora to pretend and ignore that everything had changed. She could be that girl, that woman from before. Whose only care in the world was trying to stop her Father from forcing a marriage on her. 

She had become so cold, distant, hateful, angry. Angry at everything, herself, Duncan, Howe, the Maker, the weather. She wondered sometime how Duran could act so calm when he was the one that had trained her in the ways of the berserker. It all bundled and boiled in the pit of her stomach, waiting to be released. 

But she had released it, she allowed that hold to break freely as she killed Howe. Was it that? Was that the reason why she was haunted by the man’s last words? That she finally  _ realized  _ what she became to survive the Blight? 

A sound coming from the other side of her bedroom door knocked Elissa from her thoughts. Her hand gripped the dagger that rested on her nightstand. In a passing moment the door opened a small bit with Anora’s blonde head peeking through. 

Elissa dropped her grip on the dagger while the Queen slipped into the room and shut the door behind her. Anora quickly joined Elissa in the bed, the Warden throwing the covers over her. 

It was only at this close distance that Elissa saw through the darkness Anora’s red and puffy face, it looked she had just spent the better part of the night crying. 

Elissa was wordless with her response, tightly wrapping her arms around her, Anora’s head came to rest into the crook of Elissa’s neck, burrowing her face into the side of Elissa’s neck. 

A voice in the depth of Elissa’s head wondered how Anora had survived this long. What she had been forced to do to keep her head. That she couldn’t trust her own Father due to the fear he’ll throw her to the side. An action he had taken when he gave her to Howe. 

Elissa pressed her lips onto the top of Anora’s head, pressing the woman’s body closer to her. The only words that seemed right were whispered from Elissa, “I love you.”

Anora’s body attempted to move into a small ball, pressing as much of her body up against Elissa’s, her voice sounding hoarse, “You’re all I have left.”

Elissa buried her face into Anora’s strawberry smelling hair. Allowing the woman’s warmth next to her to slowly ease them into sleep.

* * *

Elissa left Anora sleeping in her bed, praying that no one would call upon her this early in the morning. She moved through the silent halls of the estate aiming to find the kitchens. Food out there on the road always had to be rationed and with two Grey Wardens, her and Alistair could eat a cow each. 

Not unsurprising, Elissa found Alistair sitting at one of the tables in the kitchen, starting already on an early breakfast plate of eggs and ham. 

The man grunted at Elissa when she took a seat on the bench opposite from him. Still wiping the sleep from her eyes, one of the cooks brought a plate of food for her too and a pitcher of water. 

Elissa was a number of bites into her food before Alistair attempted to speak over the silence, “Couldn’t sleep?”

Elissa shook her head, taking a long drink of water, “I have been sleeping better as of late.”

Alistair head moved to either side, scanning over the room to find that the few cooks had stepped out for whatever reason, “I have noticed. What's your secret?”

“Three mouthfuls of whiskey.”

The man’s face twisted into a grin, taking a forkful of egg and popping it into his mouth, “And how are you doing?”

Elissa started to play with her food, unsure on how to actually answer Alistair’s question, “That’s a rather serious question to ask over breakfast.”

“I’m worried for you, Elissa.”

Elissa punched the tips of her folk into one of her eggs, watching the yellow liquid leak out and cover the rest of the plate, “I know Alistair.”

“I can’t understand what Howe might’ve said or how it felt to see him after what he did but you did the right thing. Honor demanded for him to pay. He killed his friends in their sleep.” 

Elissa knew Alistair was right, Alistair spoke the truth. Howe was evil, was he not? After everything he did, everything they still had yet to find out about him, what his son still did in Highever. 

“I should be happy that he’s dead but...but I don’t know what I’m feeling. Just...nothing, empty.”

Alistair raised a brow at her but didn’t speak, still eating his breakfast silently, allowing Elissa to keep on speaking.

The redhead brushed a few strands of hair back behind her ear, shaking her head and sighing, “You weren’t there, what I did. I don’t have any doubt that some of the men and women I killed had to be bad but does that make it easier? Make it more right? It should, it should make it black and white, but all we have done since Ostagar is kill, kill and kill some more. ”

“Maybe I’m tired of the death..” Elissa finished with a far off whisper and a shake of her head. 

Alistair studied Elissa as the two fell back into silence. Maybe she was right to say that it doesn’t make them more right to kill, the action is still the same no matter how one attempts to reason it. It made the man pause, looking back over the long months of nearly non stop fighting and killing.

The Warden shook the thoughts from his head, it was too early in the morning to already be thinking such depressing thoughts, “We’re almost out of it, aren’t we? Deal with Loghain, rally the Kingdom and kill an Archdemon. Hard part is done.”

Elissa snorted into her food, causing Alistair to grin. It was nice to see the woman come out of her shell finally, “You make it sound like if the Landsmeet is going to be easy.”

Alistair gave a sort of shrug, “Can’t be that hard can it? You’re bloody terrifying just stare at them until they give up.”

“By the Maker, I wished I had that skill. This Blight business would’ve been done within a week, tops.” 

The two Wardens fell into their own laughter, both smiling at each other over the rim of their drinking glasses, a comfortable silence falling in between them. 

“Have you thought what you will do after it all?” Alistair asked from across the table.

The grin fell from Elissa’s face, her usual more somber expression showing once more. Her red head nodded slowly, eyes on her plate of food, “If I live through it all somehow, I would like to go back to Highever. At least for a time, to put the old ghosts to rest.”

“I could come with you.”

Elissa shook her head, “Thank you, Alistair, but no. Doesn’t matter anyway, still have to kill an Archdemon to get to that point.”

“We already killed one dragon, how hard will another one be?”

Elissa gave another giggle, sipping from her glass of water, “What did I miss last night?”

“Oh you know, the usual. Eamon saying Anora is some kind of evil witch, that the throne is my  _ birthright _ and now was the time for me to take it.”

“With him right behind you, of course.”

Alistair nodded his head and gave that sort of ‘Duh’ look, “He said he’s still ‘open’ to you ruling next to me, but your relationship with Anora is troubling.”

Elissa arched one of her brows at that, “Oh, well then I must thank the Arl for it.”

“Look, Elissa, you know I don’t want it and I hate repeating myself, but Eamon doesn’t care about that. He’s done so much for us but..”

“But he wants to have his seat at the table when it’s all finished.” Elissa finished up the rest of her breakfast and caught Alistair’s eyes over the table. 

“I’ll follow you anywhere, Elissa. I’ll know you’ll pick what is right.”

* * *

 

Elissa had opted out of wearing armor and went with a long sleeved dark blue coat with dark brown leather pants and boots. Her sword belt hung from her hips, Starfang and a long dagger resting on either side of her hips. Putting her hair up into a tight ponytail, she took a lingering stare at herself in the mirror. 

Her gloved hand gently gripped her chin, her fingers running over her face. There had been only a few times in the past months she was able to look at herself clearly through a mirror. She never realized how much she did look different. 

Elissa was always a fit woman to begin with but now with the lifestyle of the Grey Wardens, her features were sharper, more toned. It was even obvious on her face, the baby fat long gone, her features hardened. She looked older. There was a scar that ran from the corner of her lips and across, silver in coloring that didn’t stand out too badly. She traced the line with her gloved finger. 

The conversation with Alistair lingered in her head, or mainly that it was the conversation that reminded her of what still laid in front of them. 

_ Loghain.  _

Could she pass judgement on him? Swing her mighty sword and end his reign of terror over Ferelden? Did she have that much left in her to do the simple task of putting the former Hero down? 

_ ‘Do you feel like a Hero yet?’  _

Elissa tore her hand away from her face and turned away from the mirror, hand grasping Starfang’s hilt. A swing of her sword, is that what everyone believed now? That everything would be fixed if she swung her sword? She did far worse to Howe than just swing her sword and what did it fixed? 

Her parents were still dead, Highever still ruled by the Howes. Nothing more than haunt Elissa for every choice she made to bring herself to this point. 

The redhead was pulled from her thoughts when there came a knock on her door and a maid peeked her head in, “Lady Cousland, they’re ready for you.”

All the great Lords and Ladies of every House of Highever were spread along Arl Eamon’s dining room. 

It had been by Anora’s doing, if they were going to have a chance to face off against Loghain and loyal Gwaren Lords, the Highever Houses at the Landsmeet had to be united. The business of Howe still controlling the City of Highever itself stood out as a glaring wound. 

Elissa slipped into the hall and thankfully the room hadn’t noticed her right away. She could see Anora standing in her full glory surrounded by Bann Alfstanna and Bann Franderel, Walking Sea and West Hill being key in securing the Highever loyalty. 

There was a ping in Elissa’s stomach, she had to  _ secure _ their loyalty? She was a  _ Cousland _ , Highever was their blood. 

There were countless other Lords, Ladies, Banns, Arls and so forth. Merchants, knights and local military commanders, there were too many faces that Elissa didn’t know. 

The Warden was able to slip up next to Anora before anyone realized Elissa Cousland was in the room. Cuffing her hands behind her back, she bowed her head at Anora before giving a nod to both Alfstanna and Franderel, “Your Majesty, Bann Alfstanna, Bann Franderel.”

Anora gave her a half smile, Elissa could tell that Anora was pleased by her choice of dress, “We were just speaking of you.”

Elissa forced a smile on her face but was stopped when Alfstanna crossed the distance and hugged Elissa. The Warden was taken off guard but returned the gesture nevertheless. 

Her and Alfstanna were close in age but not necessary best of friends. Alfstanna’s family had always sat in the Waking Sea and was known throughout Highever that it was key to the Cousland’s power grip over the region. 

As the two women disconnected Alfstanna removed her brother’s amulet from her person, “I have you to thanks for this, Elissa. That Alistair fellow and Zevran found me yesterday, they told me you had found my Brother. I didn’t believe it, but there he was, alive.”

Elissa had nearly forgotten who she had found deep underneath Howe’s estate, she remembered yesterday that Decker had the City Guard clear the estate, everything was still a blur to her. 

“He was at Fort Drakon. The City Guard didn’t know who he was and spoke only to himself. They had called on the Chantry but their attention is set on the Landsmeet, not some loose Templar.” Alfstanna explained, placing the amulet back into her pockets. 

“He refused to come with us, Alfstanna. When I arrived back after  _ Howe _ everything became too much to handle. I should've handled it better and alerted you straight away.”

Alfstanna only shook her head, “It is alright, Elissa. It doesn’t matter, he is alive and back home. But now with our personal business settled, it’s down to the actual business, is it not?”

Franderel rubbed his chin and nodded in agreement, “While you of are the blood, Elissa, there are a number who view that you abandoned Highever to the Howes.”

Elissa could feel that string of anger starting to spark in her stomach, she moved her hands from in front of her body and cupped them behind her back. Allowing her to lace and squeeze her fingers to keep her anger in check, “And is that what you think?”

Franderel looked at her for a few passing moment and shook his head, “No, Lady Cousland, I did not mean to come off as if West Hil…”

“He meant to say that Thomas Howe’s rule has left a open wound all across Highever. From the Storm Lords to the Highlands and inwards. I am sure they know you had a higher calling, but it’s politics, Elissa.” Alfstanna explained, cutting through Franderel’s panic speech. 

“And which Houses are those?” Anora spoke from her spot next to Elissa.

“The Highlands are loyal to the Couslands, there is no doubt with that. Most did not even show up here, they’re still fighting with the resistance.”

“Tell me of it, the ones leading it.” Elissa’s voice cut through, if there was anyone that would know if her brother still yet lived, it would be Alfstanna.

The brown haired woman rubbed her eyes before speaking, “Howe’s reach is long in Highever. Most Lords were scared by his mad dog tactics, refusing to even harbour loyalist fighters. Thomas casted a large eye onto me and Franderel. He sent his lap dogs to keep an eye on us.”

“Spies, advisers forced on us by Thomas.” Franderel cut in. 

“It stopped both of us from helping the movement. And with the Blight, Waking Sea and West Hill were becoming overrun with refugees and even darkspawn. From what I know and the information I was able to sneak past Howe’s men, Ser Gilmore leads the resistance.”

Putting aside her own thoughts that Franderel and Alfstanna could've easily thrown in their men to offset the balance, Elissa raised a brow, “He survived the attack? Last I saw him he was going to hold the main hall.”

Alfstanna nodded, “I was only able to have a short conversation with him, months ago. He is the face of it. There is another, an elf, Iona. I believe her name is, I did not meet her but Gilmore spoke of her as another commander.”

“Iona was a Lady-in-waiting to one of my mother’s friends.”

Alfstanna nodded to Elissa, sharing a look with Franderel. The two seemed to be picking their next words carefully, “There is another. A rumor. Another man, the real leader.”

“Fergus.” Elissa whispered out, her brother’s name leaving her lips. She could sense Anora inching a small bit closer, Elissa wished nothing more than to reach over and hold onto the Queen’s hand. 

Franderel’s head nodded slowly, “We believe it’s actually him. A month or two, I can’t remember, after the fall at Ostagar the last remnants of the Highever forces made it back. It was a surge with the loyalists, I believe Fergus was along them.”

“But if it is him, why would he keep it quiet?” Elissa asked to all three of the nobles.

“If Rendon or Thomas Howe had actual proof that Fergus was alive, they could’ve march an entire army upon him and his scattered men.” Alfstanna offered.

“How many times did Howe and Loghain try to kill you?” Franderel said after Alfstanna, “They knew what you were doing, you wouldn’t return to Highever. If Fergus came back and announced his return, it would directly challenge Howe’s claims.”

“Seems only more of a reason for Fergus to come forward.” Elissa whispered out. 

Anora watched Alfstanna and Franderel share a look, Elissa’s eyes dipped to the ground, the Queen decided to speak, “If Fergus does live and leads the Loyalists there is nothing we can do for him here. Our focus must be on the Landsmeet and ending this Blight, Elissa is the only Cousland that we know that still yet lives. She is the rightful Teyrna of Highever, not the Howes.”

Elissa knew Anora was right, she didn’t want to say it outloud but the Queen was right most of the time when it came to political matters. Fergus was on his own, if he was even alive, Elissa only hoped he could forgive her for what she had to do. If Fergus was still alive, his duty was in Highever and hers here in Denerim. She needed Highever behind her. 

The redhead’s eyes moved back up to scan in between the two nobles in front of her, allowing a moment to steel herself before speaking, “The Queen is correct. Walking Sea and West Hill had served the Couslands for generations. I would like you two support when I address the room.”

There was not even a moment before both Alfstanna and Franderel were nodding in agreement. 

Seated now across a long table, Anora sat at one end with Elissa on the other end, the various Lords, Ladies and other officials sitting on the sides. Silence hung over the table, all eyes on Alfstanna as she spoke to the table, “...With the Landsmeet before us, if we are to be successful in rallying the Kingdom behind us, we Houses of Highever must stand united. United under the Couslands and Queen Anora.”

There was some mumbling and grumbling while Alfstanna finished and took her seat, sending a glance Elissa’s ways. 

But it was another Lord that stood, Elissa remembered him as the eldest son, Henry, of Lord Harrison Becker. Elissa hid her displeasure behind her hand, Harrison could be reasoned with, he was loyal to her Father, but all she ever heard of about his son was his arrogance and greed. 

“The Couslands were defeated, scattered, the one that stands before us is a Grey Warden, all claims she does has are nulled in terms of the law.”

“Such things can be overlooked.” Anora spoke from her spot, her hands holding a tea cup and saucer.

“It almost sounds as if you want Thomas Howe to keep on ruling Highever, Henry.” Franderel said with a sort of smirk on his face.

That seemed to silence Henry for the moment, the young man took his seat swiftly. Silence filled the room, each member at the table glancing at each other, wondering who was going to be the next to stand and speak. 

“That does not change the fact that the Queen has stood in silence while her Father waged a Civil War across the Kingdom.” Another Lord spoke one from the table. 

There was mumbling of agreement, that famous mask dropping into place on Anora’s face, “When my Father returned to the Capital with only the Gwaren forces, he demanded me to grant him emergency powers to assist in restoring the peace and defeating the Blight. Do you blame a daughter for trusting her Father?”

“Such naivety shouldn’t come from our Queen!” Henry yelled from his spot at the table. 

Anora ignored Henry, only sending a glare in his direction,“Once Bann Teagan started the war, any allies or friends I had left in Court disappeared. Howe whispered into my Father’s ear, corrupting him every step of the way. I was sidelined, with little allies in the Capital, what type of war could I wage?”

Anora took a few seconds to lean back into her chair, “Not that different than to all of you when Thomas Howe was named Lord of Highever and was to rule in his Father’s seat. The Couslands were gone, most of your forces dead, what else could you do? Fight a losing battle? Or wait and gather your strength for the moment to strike.”

That seemed to hit a nerve with the room, silence reigning now, but the Queen was not finished yet. Standing from the chair, she placed either hand onto the table, “We can sit here and answer for all the crimes all at this table have committed in these past months. Sit and point fingers but that does not change the truth of the situation.”

“None of us have done all of what we could’ve done to make change, but that chance is now here in front of us. With the Hinterland nobles already behind Elissa, if Highever follows their historical allegiance, we can end my Father’s rule and restore the peace in this Kingdom.”

Anora took a long stare up and down the table, many seeming to be in their own thoughts. She allowed her small speech to finish before taking her seat again. Many looking everywhere but the Queen. 

Anora was right, if all the Houses of Highever had rebelled and declared for the Bann Alliance, it would be a different conversation they would be having. If they stood united when Rendon slaughtered the Couslands in their sleep. 

There was a lingering feeling in the pit of Elissa’s stomach but it quickly disappeared as soon as it had appeared. 

“There is another, this bastard, Alistair.” Alfstanna spoke from her spot, “Common rumor is that Eamon wishes to declare for him.”

That caused a ripe of chaos to fall over the table, the various seated nobles yelling across at each other. 

“How do we know Eamon is even telling the truth about this Alistar?”

“Was he even legitimized by Maric?”

“And give someone the chance to challenge his golden boy’s claim to the throne? Surely not.” 

Anora had to bite down a growl of annoyance at how quickly the pair had lost control of the table again, Knocking her knuckles onto the wood, the Queen stood from her spot at the head of the table, “Silence, silence.”

Slowly the nobles heads turned in the direction of the Queen, still mumbling to themselves. 

“Cailan told me long before his death of Alistair. Maric had told Cailan that Alistair was his half brother. I do not know if Maric legitimized him and in times like this something as trivial as that can be overlooked. Eamon is telling the truth.”

“It is not a trivial matter, Your Majesty. If Alistair was legitimized he has the rightful blood running through him.” Alfstanna attempted to put gently. 

“Legitimized or not he has the blood in him.” Another’s voice chimed in. 

Franderel nodded his head slowly, stroking his chin, “There are many who still worship Maric. You are only a Theirin by marriage while this bastard is of the blood. To some, that is enough to support him.”

Silence fell over the table again, eyes and heads glancing around each other before finally Anora shot a look in Elissa’s direction. She was going to be the only one to disarm this possible Alistair threat. 

Elissa took that as her spot to speak, “Alistair does not wish for the throne, he has never wanted the throne. Eamon and his own father, Maric, placed him as far away as they could to make sure he was never there to question Cailan’s legitimacy to the throne. Queen Anora is the rightful ruler of the Kingdom, something she’s already been doing for the past five years.”

“That doesn’t change the fact who his Father was.” Henry said from his seat.

“It changes everything. I will drag him in here myself if I have to. But Alistair wasn’t even told who his birth father was until later on in his life. He was to be a Templar, and if it wasn’t for Duncan, he would’ve taken his oaths. He knows his duty and that is to the Wardens, to end this Blight and to rebuild the Order here in Ferelden. Not to rule.”

“And what of Eamon?” Alfstanna asked. 

Another woman snorted from her seat. Elissa knew that heavy Highlander accent as the Lady Mac Ritcher. A grey haired woman looking up and down the table, “Eamon has always wanted the throne. Do you truthfully think he’s going to allow Queen Anora to stay on the throne? This Alistair is the perfect front for him.”

Anora shifted in her seat, “It is even more reason that Highever must stand united. Eamon is his own with his own supporters. Not all of the Hinterlands will follow him blindly.”

That silence filled the room again eyes shifting down to Elissa who had otherwise been quite quiet during it all. The Warden kept Anora’s eyes until she raised out of her chair, gripping the edges of the table, “If I had the chance to retake Highever during this past year, I would’ve taken it in a heartbeat. It is my home and always will be but for better or worse, the Maker decided that being a Grey Warden mattered more.”

“A lifetime ago, many of you who are currently sitting here came to my Father and said you wanted me to take over for him once he was gone. To deny my Brother of his birthright because you saw something in me. I am asking you to place that same trust in me that you did back then.”

Elissa moved from behind the table, walking up one of the sides of the table, every head in the room turning to follow her, “If we do not unite, if we allow Loghain to keep this Kingdom from mounting a defense, we will die alone and scattered. Already the darkspawn have moved unchecked, unchallenged through our lands. Burning and killing thousands. Highever must be the symbol for the rest of the Kingdom to follow.”

Elissa came to stand to the side of Anora’s chair, placing her right hand on the tall wooden back, “We must rally behind Queen Anora. Together, we will reunite this Kingdom and destroy the darkspawn before they can spread.”

After the room had long cleared Anora still sat in the chair from before, one leg crossed over another, a trademark smirk on her face. Sitting right next to her in own her chair, was Elissa with her head hung low and her elbows resting on her knees.

“I think that went well.” Anora said, reaching over to give Elisas’s shoulder a squeeze.

Elissa looked up from her thoughts with a small smile. Grabbing Anora’s hand and pressing it to her lips for a small kiss, “Do you?”

A small pleased smile seemed to have formed on Anora’s face, “With Hinterland and Highever behind us we have a chance now. But I am starved for something to eat, let us join the others for lunch.”

* * *

 

Wynne watched Kallian carefully from a few feet away. Allowing the elf to walk on her shaky legs towards the direction of the outside gardens. Paired with Wynne healing and the woman’s own strength, Kallian had made good distance in healing the physical wounds. 

The healer couldn’t comment on any hidden damage. 

The blonde haired elf paused to rest against the wall, her breaths coming out labored. Sharp intense stabbings of pain rose up in her right leg. 

Before Wynne could cross the distance to the elf’s side, another figure appeared from the other end of the hallway. The spirit healer paused in her step, watching what the witch of the wilds was going to do. 

Personally, Wynne thought for sure she was going to ignore Kallian which made her wonder why she had stopped in the first place. 

But instead of ignoring Kallian, Morrigan made a line straight to the elf. 

“Breathe.” The witch spoke in her low smoky voice, coming close to Kallian. 

Kallian looked up at the tall sorceress, large blue eyes going wide at the raven haired witch. Using the wall for support, Kallian shut her eyes and took a number of deep breaths. 

“You are not weak, Elf. What you have been through would’ve killed anyone else but you’re here and you’re already walking not two days after it all.” Morrigan’s hand rested on the woman’s slender shoulder. 

“I..I..”

“Come.” Morrigan went to link their arms together and allowed the elf to lean into the witch’s side. 

“How odd.” Wynne mumbled to herself and followed after.

* * *

 

Elissa found herself sitting on a small bench in the large entry courtyard of the Arl’s Estate. She had taken lunch with Anora, Alistair and Duran, with the others taking the downtime to catch up on sleep. 

After months of rushing around against the time, it felt odd to be now waiting. Favors had to be still called in, meetings needed to be had. After lunch Anora had disappeared elsewhere into the noble district with Decker and a small collection of soldiers to go and speak with a few erchant Lords.

The courtyard was filled with a number of Redcliffe knights and men-at-arms. The tension in the City was rising with each passing hour and Eamon had given the orders that morning to have his men be training in case of an attack.

Elissa rested her back against the wall of the estate and drew her legs out in front of her. Shutting her eyes softly, she thanked the Maker that the image of beating Howe didn’t come straight to her head. 

She needed  _ something _ to clear her head for what was to come. How could she think clearly when every time she shut her eyes all she heard was the loud screams of pain from Howe’s lips?

Elissa was pulled from her thoughts by Duran who was marching up and down the lines of drilling soldiers and knights. The Cousland’s green eyes studied the dwarf. His words from yesterday coming back to her. He knew what she was feeling on one level.

She watched him scream and yell at nearly every pair of dueling soldiers he passed. Elissa knew that before he joined with her Duran lead primarily military expeditions into the Deep Roads but actually seeing him command men was something else. 

He held an aura around him, even for someone so short in height. That was true of many dwarves she met fighting in the Deep. For a people so small, they could take any abuse thrown at them. It was easy for many to forgot that the dwarves fought their entire lives against the darkspawn, it being the only constant in their lives. While the rest of the world went along in between Blights, the Dwarves were never offered a moment of rest. 

He was a commander, battle hardened from a life of fighting, and from what Elissa had gathered in Orzammar; the next King before he was exiled. 

“Sodding idiot! Keep your shield up. How are you going to see the darkspawn coming at you if you’re blocking your vision!” Duran’s voice boomed through the square as he set his eagle eyed stare on two dueling soldiers. 

“You know, I sometimes wonder about our dwarven friend.” A familiar male voice rang next to her. 

Glancing up from her spot on the bench, Alistair stood only a few feet away, biting into a green apple while he watched the dwarf terrorize the Arl’s troops. The former Templar moved to sit down on the bench next to her, taking another bite from the apple. 

“Can you read my mind now, Alistair and didn’t tell?” Elissa teased lightly, looking over at him.

Alistair offered a smile in return, tapping his fingers against his temple, “Now using those same powers, I can read off of you that you’re worried about something.”

Elissa clicked her tongue and looked away from Alistair, going back to watching Duran and the soldiers. She knew she needed to talk about it and outside of Anora and Duran, Alistair was the only other person she ever felt comfortable enough to talk to about anything. 

“Loghain, the Landsmeet,” Elissa eyes focused now onto the ground, her eyes zooming in on a small patch of dirt, “What we still yet have to do to ensure we secure the rest of the Kingdom and what that truthfully means.”

Alistair turned inwards, his upper body facing Elissa now, “Do what, Elissa? Look at what you have already done. When we left Ostagar, it was three of us. I was the most Senior Warden left, in all terms of ‘chain of command’, it should've been me that lead this effort, but I couldn’t. You filled the role we all needed.”

“Bloody hell, Elissa, don’t you see what you have created? You did the unthinkable, you rallied an army and now the only thing that stands between us is Loghain.”

“That’s what I mean, Alistair. Loghain. It’s not so easy as swinging a sword. I butchered Howe, I butchered everyone with Howe, I killed anyone that stood in my way of getting to him. It wasn’t  _ right _ .”

“He murdered your parents, Elissa! He took everything you loved from you, if killing him isn’t right then what is?”

Elissa knew Alistair was right on at least one level, “If that was true, Alistair, then why is this guilt eating at me? Why do I feel so  _ empty _ ? Killing Loghain won’t help, it won’t change anything. If I march into the Landsmeet Hall and butcher him like I did Howe, what would that mean?”

Alistair’s brow lifted, confusion across his face, “What do you mean?”

“The conquering hero riding in on their white horse and cutting down Loghain? That if I run him through everything will be okay? This is more than that, it is more than my own revenge. If we slaughter Loghain, the Houses of Gwaren will rise up. Gwaren’s Army is the army that Loghain built and trained. 10,000 highly disciplined men and women. “

Was that the lie she was going with now? That it wasn't for far more selfish and personal reasons.

“This is more than the now, Alistair. This Landsmeet, how this Blight is ended, will define the character of this country.”

Alistair became silent once more, turning his body away from Elissa again, his apple forgotten in his hand, “I haven’t thought of that.”

“Howe was an evil man, Alistair, I know this. Loghain did this all and his death would end so much but...but I...I just  _ don’t know anymore _ .”

_ ‘Do you feel like a Hero yet?’ _

Alistair looked back to Elissa, “Elissa, he killed Cailan, he killed Duncan, he killed thousands, even this Blight can be lead back to him. You can’t simply let him go free.”

Elissa couldn’t answer Alistair, not knowing herself to the question of that. It wasn’t even something she had truthfully asked herself again. 

She couldn’t bear Alistair’s stare, that twitching coming back again to her hands. She stood suddenly, “I think I need to spar. Thank you, Alistair.”

The man only watched Elissa go.

* * *

 

Elissa had to admit that she felt a small bit better wearing that dragonbone armor. She truthfully did not know how Wade did it but it felt too natural on her form. For being made of the bones of a dragon and silverite, it weighed pretty light on her body. 

With Summer ending and Fall beginning the late afternoon sun wasn’t as hot as it had been in the previous months. Unlike her other travelling partners who were enjoying the pleasures that came with having an entire household staff, Elissa felt it odd. 

After nearly a year on the road and the nicest places they stayed in being an inn, Elissa had gotten used to the suckage. 

There was still a few lingering knights in the courtyard but after Duran’s intense drilling the others Elissa assumed were staying away to get out of having to go a second round. 

The sight of the Warden caused a few to pause. Elissa cut quite the appearance while in full armor. The silver-red armor stood out in a crowd, fulfilling Duran’s wish of Elissa having ‘style’ too. She wore a light set of leather armor underneath the set completing the look.

With Starfang resting on her hip, her helmet tucked under her arm and her matching metal shield hanging over her shoulder. Elissa moved from lingering near the front doors and into the courtyard proper. 

The late afternoon sun felt nice on her face. It allowed her a moment to drift away from the tension that hung over Eamon’s estate and the rest of the entire City. The sounds of the few last drilling soldiers and dueling knights were oddly comforting too Elissa’s ears. 

Elissa spotted Duran stood a few feet away. One hand resting on the axe head of his long handled axe which’s pommel rested in the dark, the other holding a mug of some sort of ale.

“Elissa.” Duran offered a stiff nod towards the woman when Elissa came to stand next to him. 

“Duran,” Elissa gave a small nod too, glancing down at the dwarf before looking out over the courtyard, “Are you done screaming at Eamon’s troops?”

“I thought I could use the stress relief,” There was a slight smirk playing on the dwarf’s lips as he looked away, “How was your great meeting?”

“It reminds me of the life that I left behind.”

Duran snorted and nodded in his head in agreement, “Does have a certain charm to it, doesn’t it?”

“Like screaming a bunch of farmers that only hold a weapon a few times every year?”

“It actually reminds me of this one time when I was younger. My brother Trian took pleasure in abusing the Palace Guard. Trian had ordered the entire Guard to be up at dawn and be waiting for him at attention in front of the barracks. Instead, the Guard Captain, a rather grizzled veteran of too many wars named Gadrin, told Trian to “sod off”. Train started getting all huffy and puffy, looked at the Captain, looked at me, looked at the Captain, looked back at me before finally saying ‘You passed the test, Captain’ before leaving.”

“And as soon as the door was shut the entire barracks just filled with laughter until the Captain raised his hand for silence. Then ordered his men to get into full battle armor and then spent the morning drilling them for laughing at the Prince behind his back.” Duran finished with a hearty laugh, sipping from his mug of ale.

A wry smile appeared on Elissa face, glancing down to the dwarf before she spoke, “What happened to this Gadrin?”

“When we were in Orzammar I asked around. He was dismissed from his position and later found dead after he asked Bhelen, ‘Are you just naturally just a cunt or do you have to try?’” The slight bitter humor dripped from Duran’s tone, bowing his head to his feet as he finished. 

The smile dropped from Elissa’s face, looking away from the dwarf and back to the dueling soldiers and knights, “He took everything from you, didn’t he?”

“Aye, and killing him brought me no sense of justice. I remember when Bhelen was young, he used to follow me around like a lost puppy. He always wanted my attention and I always gave it to him. I loved my brother, even until the end and even now.” Duran finished his mug and glanced up towards Elissa.

It was the reason she felt close to Duran, like how Alistar was the little brother she always wanted. Duran was much like her in some ways. Born to power, expected to do grand things and then have it torn away from them, one by one until they were all that was left. In silent shared pain that were bound. 

“Are you going to go back after we defeat the Blight?”

“My people are broken, Warden. A shadow of what we were. You have seen it with your own eyes now. Look at what they did to me, but we have to believe we change it. Branka was not wrong when she said our people are nothing more now than rates hiding along the ruins. If we survive this, I will do everything in my power to bring the change we need. Or die trying.”

Elissa was starting to wonder if she made the wrong choice in selecting the next Dwarven King. 

Silence fell in between the two, Elissa trying to pick out someone to spar with while Duran seemed to be lost in his thoughts or memories. It was not until the dwarf glanced around that his deep voice broke the silence, “I can’t tell if that woman wants to take your pants off or run you through.”

Elissa followed Duran’s stare to across the courtyard and found one of the Arl knights staring at the two. Duran was correct, with the knight’s narrowed eyes and smirk on her lips, even Elissa couldn’t tell what was brewing in that head. 

Unknowing that Anora had drifted into the Courtyard with a few maids surrounding her. The Queen did not have to search long until she her eyes landed on Elissa’s figure. A part of her head reminded her that she had been looking for Elissa for a reason but instead simply found herself staring at Elissa from afar. 

Even from afar Anora could see that Elissa looked at least less pale than she did in the past few days .Auburn hair done in a single braid to make sure her hair didn’t get in the way of her helm. 

Anora worried like how any lover would do. It was the reason she was keeping close to Elissa even more than usual. Anora knew that it was the wrong time to do so, with Eamon breathing down their necks looking for any sign of weakness to use. But in no good mind was Anora going to allow Elissa to do this alone. If Anora wasn’t there for the start of it, she would be there for the end. 

She had seen the change in Elissa from the moment she finally saw her. Both of them had changed so much since they last saw each other. A part of Anora had wondered if those feelings they shared at teenagers would even of survived that long. 

But standing there now, Anora couldn’t resist to let her eyes stare at Elissa’s figure. Anora would never say it outloud, not even to Elissa, but how much that woman had changed her. 

Elissa had made the world less cold, less angry, less lonely. 

If they were smart, they would stopped what they had. But every time they would fight, scream at each other, deny the feelings they both obviously had for each other, Fate would bring them back. 

Just how Fate brought Elissa back to Anora right when they both needed each other the most. 

And it was those feelings that did not make any of Anora’s choices easier. Her Father had thrown her to the side, forgotten who she even was, but could Anora truthfully let her Father be killed? Was it anymore fair to beg Elissa to spare her Father? She knew what the right thing to do but it didn’t make it any easier for her.

A sigh escaped from Anora’s lips, the Queen’s eyes dropping from Elissa to examine the ground. Why did it always have to be her?

It wasn’t until Erlina spoke up from next to Anora that the blonde snapped out of her haze, “The Warden carries herself quite well, no?”

Anora had completely forgotten that there were others behind her. Her mind quickly catching up to save herself some face, “She always carried herself well, even when we were younger. Now she’s just showing off.”

The pair watched as the Warden started to cross the courtyard over towards a small group of the Arl’s knights were standing. They couldn’t hear what they were saying due to the distance but Anora decided she did not like the look one of the knights was giving Elissa. Would Eamon dare to plan a training accident? Surely the Arl was not that blinded yet, he needed Elissa. 

The smile dropped from her face and the famous Ice Queen mask fell into place. Erlina seemed to sense the shift in the Queen’s mood, “Shall I fetch the Warden then?”

“No, she seems to want to duel. I wish to see it myself.” Anora turned and headed to the bench Elissa herself was sitting on earlier that day. 

Elissa and Duran walked to where the three knights stood in a circle. The knights gave deep bows towards the two warriors, the one that was staring at Elissa before speaking, “Warden, Lord Duran, the stories of your skills have echoed throughout the Kingdom. Would you honor me by testing our metal?”

Duran’s brow flicked up from the ‘Lord’ title but kept his tongue, sending a glance towards Elissa’s way. 

The Warden ignored the other two knights and settled on the woman that was speaking to her. She was of fair skin and a light auburn hair, amber eyes staring into her own green ones. She looked familiar to a degree, “Have we met before, Ser?”

The knight’s cheeks flushed red. Nodding her head, “Ser Katlyn, Warden. And yes. I am the daughter of Bann Gregor of Gherlne. We met once in passing a few years ago before I swore myself into the Arl’s service.” 

“I must apologize, I do not remember you. But if you will have it, I welcome a way to warm up my day.”

“Warm up, Warden? I intend to be very much more than just a warmup.” Ser Katlyn’s voice sounded smug, arrogant. Not a teasing type that Elissa would of been used to. Elissa wondered if she had somehow wronged her when they had met to cause such a reaction.  

Elissa eyes narrowed for a split second, glancing to the other two knights who only had smiles. The Cousland had not survived this long by not listening to her gut feelings. Elissa nodded her head slowly, “Let us see then.”

The match was quickly set with the two moving a good few feet away from each other. The two other Redcliff knights stood on either side of Duran who watched with mild interest. His eyes wandering around the Courtyard, seeing the appearance of Anora sitting under the shade and watching with a quiet interest. 

Anora was good at hiding her feelings behind a mask of indifference but it did not take much for Duran to see how the Queen’s eyes always lingered on Elissa. He was curious naturally, with all the months out there on the road, Elissa did not speak much of her previous life. He was not blind to how Elissa changed ever since they had saved the Queen. The obvious storm raging in Elissa seemed to be eased by Anora. Duran wondered how the two must of been before all of this happened, much like how Duran thought the same of his own life. 

The dwarf looked away from the Queen and went back to watching the duel. Such thoughts shouldn’t be allowed to ruin such a nice afternoon.

Elissa slipped the helm over her reddish brown hair and rolled her shoulders. She moved the shield from her shoulder and strapped it onto her forearm. She had already made sure to make some minor changes to Wade’s armor. Hidden on the inside of the shield was a strapped short sword, allowing another weapon if she lost Starfang. 

The Warden smacked her visor down and watched while Ser Katlyn readied herself. Slipping a helm onto her red head, the burgonet helmet lacked the full face visor it was known for. It left Katlyn’s front face unprotected but allowed the knight full view. Moving a standard square shield from her back and a wicked looking sword from her hip. The knight gave a few swings to warm up her arm before taking up a classic stance.

Elissa’s green eyes stared across the space to the knight. There was something off about this Ser Katlyn. For the life of the Warden she could not remember meeting the other woman but there was something painfully that did not sit well in Elissa’s stomach. 

Logic would of directed her to think clearly but that blood red anger begun to form and block her thoughts. She needed something to hit, the past two days have been nothing but allowing herself to feel all this pain, it was past time to use that pain and anger on someone. 

The Warden moved her right hand down and unclasped her sword belt, allowing it dropped to the floor with a loud clang. A few mumbles being heard as she rotated her shoulders and kicked off running towards the knight. 

Elissa had spent nearly the past year fighting for her life. From the night Howe’s men broke into her room to the other evening, the former highborne had been molded through fire and blood. She could see the shock on Katlyn’s face by how fast Elissa crossed the distance. 

The difference of playing as a warrior and being one. 

Her body was a flash of dark red before she was on the knight. Katlyn kept her shield tight and close to her body though swung with her right hand that carried the sword, aiming to smack into Elissa’s  right shoulder. 

The red metal shield bearing the crest of the Grey Warden’s met the sword with a loud clanging of steel. While most warrior’s arms would've shaken from the sheer force of a sword, Elissa was not phased at all. 

As the metal connected, Elissa glanced the blow off the side of the shield, using the rim and force to send Kaltyn’s arm flying across the knight’s body from the impact. The move caused the knight to stumbled forward, not having expect such a hard hit to be met with a harder parry. 

It left Katlyn open to be rammed with the rim of Elissa’s shield. Elissa taking a small step forward while she sent the metal slamming into Katlyn’s helm, sending the knight stumbling backwards. Only keeping onto her sword due to her own training and combat experience. 

Duran snorted loudly at the sight, commenting to the two knights next to him, “Remember, your shield is as much of a weapon as your sword.” 

Anora found herself leaning forward in her seat. Her hands clasped into her lap moved to rest on either knee. Everyone in the entire Kingdom at this point had heard the tales of the Warden and her fighting skill but to see it in person. Moving with such swiftness and skill, as if her armor was weightless. 

It reminded her of her Father in part, but even he would have to admit that Elissa was his better. Not born to do this, but shaped and dealt a hand that forced her to become what she was. A warrior, a protector. 

Katlyn for her credit bounced back faster than most. Finding her footing, the knight arched out to her right side and got some distance from Elissa before the Warden could finish her off. The redhead mind was ringing from the shield bash. Most likely the hardest one she had ever felt in her life thus far. 

The Redcliff knight could feel the eyes of the Courtyard on them. Anger moved through her veins, she would not be made a fool with one simple attack. Her Father wouldn't be proud. She allowed her anger to blind her, causing her to lash out at Elissa. 

Elissa followed after Kaltyn. Dropping into a slight bent position, shield presented out in front of her. Right hand clasped onto her left forearm. The same burning feeling every time she fought moving through her. 

While the old Elissa enjoyed pretending she was a warrior, the Elissa that had been forged from the fire of combat was nothing like that. She enjoyed fighting, it was the only thing that had made her feel alive in these pasting months. It was her now, not something she was pretending to be. 

Katlyn gave out a loud roar that sounded through the courtyard. Moving forward off her right foot, she attempted to move her left arm flying forward, using the rim of her square shield to slam into the rim of Elissa’s shield. Aiming to turn the shield and be followed up with a stab underneath the armor that protected Elissa’s armpit. 

Elissa could feel the shift in the spar. The anger rolled off of Katlyn like a heat. Stepping off, Elissa moved off in the right direction. Katlyn’s shield glancing off Elissa’s shield as the Warden ended up behind Katlyn who had over extended with the shield bash and stab. 

Drawing the short sword from its resting place inside of the shield, she took up her position once more, hiding the blade behind the shield and out of direct view of Katlyn. 

The knight stumbled forward but Elissa was not allowing Katlyn away this time. In the amount of time it took Katlyn to try and regain her footing and attempt to twist around to face Elissa, the Cousland was already on her. 

Duran’s hand slipped from the head of this axe downwards to the long handle. Eyes narrowing as he felt the mood shift between the two warriors. He knew that Elissa would not want him to end it, but he wasn’t going to allow this knight wound or attempt to kill their Warden. 

Her shield came flying upwards to slam once more into the side of Katlyn’s head. And then swiftly followed up by a nasty uppercut hit with the metal rim. 

The sound of bone breaking could be heard as blood filled Katlyn’s mouth. The shield rim had shattered her jaw and center the bones into different directions. Katlyn fell to the floor in a heap of metal with Elissa going to press the shield to Katlyn’s upper body to stop the redhead from a cheap shot and placed the tip of the short sword onto her pale throat. 

Anora had spent her entire life around soldiers, she had watched a number of duels, but even she could feel the shift. The growl or war cry the knight gave off was out of pure anger. The Queen gave a gasp as she watched Elissa break the woman’s jaw in a brute slam. 

Elissa tapped the short sword blade on Katlyn’s forehead. Her breath coming out ragged, adrenaline flowed through her blood. A voice in her head screamed at her to kill the knight, it was obvious what Katlyn had aimed to do.

The courtyard held its collective breath. 

Elissa was nearly about to ram the sword through the knight’s forehead until the woman’s sharp cries finally registered with Elissa. Elissa suddenly jumped up from the knight, separating herself from the down woman. 

There was a few moments of silence before the pair of knights standing next to Duran rushed to Katlyn’s aid and started to carry her out of the  courtyard. Elissa had to turn away from the scene, her arms and hands shaking. 

Her green eyes looked back down to the shortsword in her hand. Taking a breath to try and steady herself, her green eyes shutting soft, It felt like the entire world was spinning around her, she could barely control the shaking in her hands, her breaths coming out more wild with each passing moment. 

Opening her eyes, she looked up at the sun, as if the answer to everything would be right there. It was becoming too much, all of it. She barely could keep control of herself ever since she was taught by Duran and Orghen but it was becoming worse. 

Elissa should’ve told Katlyn no, no matter what the woman wanted to do, how easily was she able to kill someone now? What had happened to that girl from before? There was too many emotions rushing through her head at once to make sense of anything. 

Swallowing her emotions down into the pit of her stomach she did what she had done for this past year every time she had a attack like this. She angled her head up high and scanned around the Courtyard. 

Seeing that the Warden was done staring up at the sky, the others in the courtyard made busy, not wishing to have Elissa’s stare onto them. 

Anora had stood during this all, wanting to rush to Elissa but the Queen knew better than to do that. Standing in the shade of the estate, Anora wore her best Ice Queen mask, her hands clasped tightly in front of her as Elissa made the distance over to her.

Coming close now, Anora could see the look in Elissa’s eyes, taking a small step closer to meet the Warden half way, the Queen spoke quietly, “Ellie..”

“Were you looking for me?” Elissa tried to say but her voice cracked. The Warden was trying had to act as if she was okay but only became more apparent with each passing second how close she was to breaking down. 

“Come with me.” Anora’s hand went to grip Elissa’s wrist and lead the way back into the Estate.

* * *

 

The room was dark. Pitch black in fact. The only small amount of light came from the moon as some of its rays shined through the open window. The night breeze felt nice on Kallian’s skin, nearly calming.

Her dinner had long gone cold, laying untouched a tray near her bedside. She knew Wynne would be angry come the morning, she needed to eat to regain her strength. 

But she didn’t want to. A part of her didn’t want to get better. 

The elf laid ontop of the covers, shivers running down her spine that wasn’t from the cold wind sweeping the room. A number of vials rested on the nightstand next to her, offering her a dreamless restful night of sleep if only she took a quick sip of them. 

They never helped for long and reminded her too much of  _ before _ . 

Of the potions that she was forced to drink to make sure she didn’t claw at Howe or the others. AFter a certain point she found it was useless to resist, and the potions stopped. Making sure she  _ felt _ and  _ remembered _ every single touched. As if it was burnt into her memory and skin. 

She was only allowed to bathe once a week, the days of being covered in...filth. 

Kallian wanted it to stop. The flashes, the smells, the memories. She wanted it to end. After everything she went through, how was she supposed to get over it? How was she supposed to get better?

Her eyes wandered back to the potions on the table. If she drank enough, she would never wake up. It would all stop. Completely painless. 

There were always those stories growing up in the Alienage about the unlucky ones that were caught at the one place at the wrong time. She never through that was going to be her. It was impossible that she would join and become a part of that growing number. 

There would be no way to hide what had happened. Not from her Family and the rest of the Alienage. 

Tears blurred her blue eyes, Kallian curled into a tight ball on top of the bed, arms wrapping around herself. No matter how much water she drank, she couldn’t get rid of the bitter taste from her mouth when they forced her to drink that vile potion after every time Howe had his fill of her. 

_ “No Elven whore will carry my seed.”  _

Under his thumb, she could become numb. Block out it out until it was over. Lock everything in a box and throw away the key. She had to survive, that was the one thing that kept her alive. 

Now, with that freedom presented to her, did she truthfully want to? 

How did someone live after all that? 


	5. Chapter 5

Alistair was starting to feel more and more uneasy around Eamon in private. The Arl, ever since they had arrived in the capital for the Landsmeet, had decided to make it a nightly tradition to meet with Alistair. 

The boy in Alistair said it was Eamon attempting to be that father figure he failed to be all those years ago. While the truth was more apparent. 

Sat in front of the Arl’s desk, a silence had fallen over their forced small chat. Eamon trying to ask Alistair about his time out on the road while the Warden wished nothing more than to just leave. 

“I wish to ask you of a more personal question.” Eamon said out of the silence that had formed between the two. 

“No, I don’t want the throne.” Alistair at this point had become so out of tune to Eamon’s questions that he wasn’t truthfully paying full attention anymore. 

Eamon gave the man a stern look, shaking his head, “No, not that. It’s about Elissa, the Warden.”

“I thought I was the Warden, too.” Alistair attempted to deflected with a touch of humor, forcing a smile at the Arl.

Eamon simply stared on.

“Her mental state seems to be quite all over the place. Has she spoke to you about it?”

Alistair nearly crooked a brow at the Arl. They had heard about the duel that afternoon in the courtyard but such accidents always happen between people dueling. While Alistair knew better than to just write it off as that, he wasn’t going to tell Eamon that. 

“Elissa witnessed her entire Family, home and every good memory turn to ash in front of her. Then forced to fight for her life the past year. She takes it as well as anyone else would.”

“I would have agreed with you, Alistair, until the events with Howe. She seems shaken, her resolve is being questioned.”

“By whom? The nobles I have spoken to only sing her praises.”

Eamon seemed taken back by the sharpness in Alistair’s tone. Paired with the information that Alistair has actually been taking part in the debates along the nobility. 

“She nearly killed one of my knights and then stood in the middle of the courtyard staring up at the sky.”

Alistair had to school his emotions to stop himself from lashing out. Leaning forward slightly in his chair, he leveled his eyes onto Eamon’s, “Listen to me Eamon, what we have done, what we have seen. It would turn any hardened warrior into a shell. The only reason we are still alive is because of each other. Every member of the Company. Elissa has lead us to quite literally the Fade and back.”

“We both know something has changed in her.”

“Is it wrong for a human being to grow tired of taking life, Eamon?”

“If she is too weak to do what is necessary for the good of this Kingdom, Alistair, it comes to you.” 

That seemed to silent Alistair, blinking several times as he stared at Eamon. How could it be that Eamon suspected what Alistair even suspected in Elissa? 

Alistair needed alone time after meeting with Eamon, walking alone through the halls of the estate. His own demons raged and raged in his own head. He shared that same invisible pain with Elissa, like everyone else in the Company. So much death, so much bad in such a short amount of time lead anyone to question everything. 

Eamons words stuck with the man. After Ostagar it should've fell to him but he was blinded by his own pain. He shoved leadership and everything else onto Elissa. In no small part, Alistair felt responsible for causing Elissa even more stress and pain. 

His own conversation with Elissa earlier that day came back to him. She was starting to question everything, a part of Alistair could not blame her, but his own pain, his own anger spoke louder. 

It was Loghain that took Duncan away from him, the other Wardens. His first real Family. Duncan was the first person to ever ask him what he wanted, who actually seemed to care for him. Loghain took it all away that night with one short order. 

But it didn’t make the Landsmeet any easier. If someone had asked him right after Ostagar he might have the chance to run through Loghain, he would of been in glee. But now, now everything was too mixed up to make sense of. 

Could he stand by and possibly let Elissa not do anything or to kill Loghain, adding another body to her count? He couldn’t imagine what it would do between her and Anora. Anora seemingly being one of the only things keeping Elissa together. 

His heart longed for peace, Elissa’s heart longed for peace. The lives of the Wardens and Duncan at Ostagar had to be avenged. But he couldn’t let that fall onto Elissa anymore. The next he saw her, he would offer his arm to do it. 

At least then he would be free from his own nightmares.

* * *

 

Elissa sat on the edge of her bed, face held in her hands. She never doubted herself more than in this moment. 

Not when she was tasked with finding the ashes of a woman who might’ve never of been real. Not to find a thought to be dead Paragon, not to march into a hive of werewolves. Not even to travel deep into the Fade to slay a demon. 

But now, finally when they are almost over the last wall, her own worst enemy was herself and her head. 

Elissa’s face twisted in pain as a fresh set of tears started to pool from her eyes. She was barely hanging together, even out there on the road she knew it was only a matter of time. What she witnessed in Highever paled in comparison to the horrors of the Deep Roads, the horrors of what others have inflicted on innocent people during this war. 

_ “Do you feel like a Hero yet?” _ Howe’s words seemed to echo through her ears. 

Elissa’s  fresh tears brought the attention of Anora who was only in the other room taking a moment to change into sleepwear. Coming back out in a hurry, Anora’s heart dropped at the sight of Elissa. 

In their relationship both of them wore the strong faces. Elissa had been a warrior daughter and Anora the Ice Princess, they were completely different personalities that could only work with each other. 

Elissa had always been so strong, not allowing anything to get to her. While Anora could take any and all abuse from the Court rumors and Cailan’s mouth, in private it broke Anora, only for Elissa to be there. It was Elissa that had hunted after countless of noblemen sons and daughters for speaking ill of Anora. 

Coming forward, Anora took a knee in front of Elissa and wrapped her arms around her. Elissa responded immediately to Anora’s warm touch, burying her face into the side of Anora’s neck and wrapping her arms around the Queen’s slim form. 

Sobs rocked Elissa’s body as she spoke so brokenly that Anora couldn’t even tell what she was saying. 

Anora only tried her best to smooth Elissa, running one hand through her auburn hair and the other rubbing up and down her back. 

“I..I..can’t do it, Anora. I won’t be able to do it. I know you will ask me of it and I know I won’t be strong enough to say no.” Elissa said in between sharp cries.

Anora closed her eyes and pressed her face into Elissa’s hair. Tears tried their best to leak from the Queen’s eyes at the sight of her love and the truth in her words.

“I can’t do this, I don't know what I am still holding onto.”

Elissa’s words felt like a punch right to Anora’s stomach, nearly taking it personally. Anora sucked the feeling into her stomach and only pressed a number of kisses into Elissa’s hair as she tried to find the right words. 

Slowly, Elissa’s sobbing started to calm, Elissa simply holding onto Anora for the sake of holding onto her. Anora whispered and hummed into Elissa’s ear, visually having a calming effect on the Warden, “You’re holding onto this, Elissa.”

Elissa crawled backwards into the bed and pulled Anora effortlessly with her. Holding onto the Queen like a child would with a teddy bear, leaving Anora to only hold on tight.

* * *

 

Anora woke long before Elissa even started to wake. Raising near dawn and dressing, she left Elissa to her silent slumber, the Warden was going to need her rest. Not to mention that Anora did not have the heart in it to break the peaceful look on Elissa face. 

There was only the household staff awake at this hour, Anora had learned in the few days she’s been around Elissa’s Company that they seemed to be enjoying the benefit of being able to sleep in to the late morning. 

So Anora was surprised when she saw Alistair sitting alone at the dining table eating his breakfast. The Warden’s head peeked up when he heard footsteps approaching, a bit of egg hanging off from his lips at the sight of Anora standing in front him. 

Alistair wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and smiled, motioning for her to sit, “Please, don’t just stand there in silence. I don’t bite.”

Anora didn’t move to begin with. Her eyes still bearing down on him, it was the first time she realized that the two had been alone with each other. 

She hadn’t attempted to but it came naturally to compare him in appearance to his half brother Cailan. Maric’s strong features were apparent on Alistair’s face, Anora could picture if Alistair had been raised at Court there would of been two Princes to worry about with possible bastards. 

Something that Cailan didn’t have was the sense of grimness around Alistair. While Cailan pretended to be this Soldier-King that his Father had been, Anora could see it on Alistair. Much like Loghain, Elissa and countless others, these were people that had been scarred by the combat they had seen. 

Anora decided to cross the distance and take a seat from across Alistair. A bowl of fruit rested on the middle of the table, the Queen leaned over to pick up a green apple. Using a knife to slice it, “And how are you, Alistair?”

Alistair glanced up from his plate, watching Anora slice the apple into bite sized pieces. The famous Ice Queen stare on her face, the crystal blue eyes bearing down on his person unflinching. 

Alistair sighed and placed his fork and knife down onto the table, “I don’t want it.”

Anora arched a brow at Alistair, popping one of the slices of the apple into her mouth and leaning back into her chair, “And why is that? Not many would turn down a Crown.”

“I do think one should have some prior experience with ruling thousands of people before taking that type of job on.” 

Anora fell into silence once more. Only a few knew of Alistair’s true father. Of course no one still knew who his Mother was, Anora had theories, a certain Bann had been known to be close with Maric around the time Alistair was born. 

“I am glad you think so also.” Anora said with quite a neutral tone, not allowing any emotion to slip pass.

“I don’t know any other way to word this, so I’ll be blunt. I did not know my true Father for the start of my life. After that I was told to keep it a secret, Eamon made sure when I was young that I understood I would never be allowed anywhere near the Court, near Cailan’s throne. I was sent to the Templars for that reason and I joined the Grey Wardens to keep that true. I am a Warden, not a King. I never will be nor want to be.”

Anora studied him, her own Father used to say the best man for the position was the one that didn’t want it. Something she always disagreed with. A part of Anora, the one that was the political shrewd told her that Alistair could simply be lying. 

But there was truth in his tone, an honesty in his being that was unseen in most people in nobility. Relaxing her features and becoming comfortable in the chair, she spoke once more, “Is that what you wish, Alistair? To be a Grey Warden?”

Alistair seemed knock off guard by the sudden switch in Anora’s tone and body language. He was scared of her on at least one level but in the back of his mind he did know he was speaking to the secret lover of Elissa. Anora couldn’t be all bad, could she?

“You are one of the only people to have ever asked me that question.”

“There are many who would want to use you, Alistair, because of your blood. But as you said yourself, you are no Therin. You were raised to never think that. Many on my side would tell me to do away with you, lock you away to stop any would be rebellions to rise up in your name.”

“That isn’t necessary, Anora.”

“I agree. Elissa speaks highly of you.”

That caused a small red blush to appear on Alistair’s cheeks, glancing around the room and listening to hear if he heard anyone approaching before he spoke, “She said something similar of you. I..I don’t hate you, Anora. If everyone was judged by the sins of their Father then I could only picture what my punishment would be.”

Anora thought to herself that it would be much easier if Alistair hated her too and wanted the throne for himself. She was unprepared for such honesty from the man. It didn’t make this coming Landsmeet any easier. Her father was many things but could she abandon him for death?

The silence was broken when another’s footsteps were heard and the familiar auburn head of Elissa appeared in the doorway. Wearing the same long coat blue outfit from the other day, Starfang was hanging from her side alongside her long dagger. 

Elissa was silent while she took her seat next to Anora and moved her hands up to pull her hair back into a tight ponytail, “What did I miss last night, Alistair?”

Taking the tone of her voice and the way her green eyes stared at his, he knew that she didn’t want to be asked if she was okay.

“The usual. Morrigan glared at everyone, Zevran and Duran went down to the Pearl. Wynne checked up on Kallian. Sten and Shale had a staring contest and I believe Oghren busted into the Arl’s private stocks. All while Eamon was giving me a pep talk for my future job as King.”

While Alistair spoke, the other members of the Company started to fill the room. The redhead Bard taking her spot in the seat next to Alistair and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Wynne and Morrigan followed. Duran, Zevran and Oghren coming from the kitchens with their plates of food stacked to the top. Lastly Sten came to sit at the far end of the table, picking from the fruit bowl.

It was the first time that Anora had actually seen all of the Company together in one place, the only one missing be the Stone Golem, but by the sound of heavy footsteps in the hallway, Shale wasn’t that far. 

It wasn’t long before a team of household servants came from the kitchens with large trays and platters of food, placing it down in the middle of the table alongside pitchers of sweet wine and water. 

Anora was impressed by the amount of food everyone piled down onto their plates, she nearly felt bad for the Arl’s kitchens. 

With Elissa on her left, the dwarf Duran was on her right. The dwarf leaned over to speak in a low tone with her as the others picked up into casual conversation, “Welcome to the sight of the Grey Company.”

Anora raised a brow at the dwarf, looking down to him, “The Grey Company?”

“We voted on it before we came to the Landsmeet. Something easier to refer everyone to. Sounded better than the Company of Elissa Cousland or the Grey Wardens, seeing as there is only two.”

Anora had to admit there was logic in that, “It’s quite the group of people. This is the first time I have actually seen all of you together.”

“I do think everyone has been enjoying the fact that there’s a team of people who is waiting to do anything they ask.”

From underneath the table, Anora could feel Elissa’s hand going to rest on her thigh. Anora slipped her right hand underneath also and went to interlaced her fingers with Elissa’s. 

Anora looked away from Duran and glanced around the table. Her eyes glancing in between Leliana and Alistair who were feeding each other their breakfast. Anora nearly snorted at the disgusting look Morrigan was sending the two lovers’ way. 

Anora squeezed Elissa’s hand when the Warden leaned over to whisper into Anora’s ear, “They have been like that for months now.”

“You sound jealous.”

Anora watched as Elissa moved away and gave a little shrug, forcing a small smile to come to Anora’s features.

“By the Stone, she does smile.” Orghen spoke up from his spot at the table, pointing at Anora. 

Anora was caught off guard by the dwarf yelling and then every head at the table snapping in the direction of the Queen.

The first reaction that came to Anora’s stomach was to drop the smile and simply stare at them, but it was then she felt Elissa’s hand squeezing once more.

Anora’s lips kept the smile, it only growing larger as she returned the squeeze, “Don’t tell the Court, it’ll ruin my reputation.”

Anora breathed a sigh of relief when the table erupted into different giggles and laughs.

* * *

 

“Lord Michael of Amaranthine Trading Company has expressed his support for my bid and has promised funding to fight the Blight and post Blight rebuilding.” Anora commented as her and Elissa walked down one of the many hallways that lead back to the Queen’s chambers.

“I don’t trust businessmen or merchants.”

“It’s a good sign. Lord Michael is a shrewd. If he’s placing his support behind me, it means that support is shifting from my Father and not to Eamon.”

Elissa shrugged her shoulders, speaking in a lower tone, “What did you and Alistair speak of this morning?”

“He reinforced what you already told me. It was rather...enjoyable.”

Elissa gave Anora a questioning look forcing Anora to sigh and attempt to explain, “Outside you and my Father, I have had very little friends. Breakfast was...nice with all of them.”

Anora could see Elissa’s frown twisting into a small smile, the Queen could sense that Elissa wanted to touch her or hug her after the honesty but the two had to settle on just smiling at each other. 

“They are my sorta Family. Don’t let Morrigan's coldness get to you, she’s actually not that bad underneath it all.”

Anora’s hands twisted in front of her in her trademark move, having to hold herself back from trying to hug or press a kiss to Elissa’s cheek. Their eyes caught each other's, Anora could feel that all familiar butterfly feeling rising up through her stomach at the sight of Elissa’s eyes softening. A sight she had almost forgotten. 

The two paused in the middle of the hallway, still holding each other’s eyes. Anora’s breath hitched when Elissa took a step forward. Anora was getting ready to lean forward when the sound of footsteps brought them back to reality.

Anora could see Elissa’s eyes dipping to her lips, a sigh leaving the Warden’s lips before moving away back to a respectable distance. 

Turning the corner not that far in front of them, Decker appeared. The aged soldier glanced in between the two women and then offered a bow to Anora, “Your Majesty, Lady Cousland, Kallian has awakened and wishes to speak to Lady Cousland.”

Anora watched Elissa raise to her full height and nodded her head, “Lead the way then.”

* * *

 

Elissa had to admit that the Elf did look better than when they found her. Wynne’s abilities in healing had seem to taken the woman from near death to now mending. The color was returning to the elf’s skin which was a far step compared to how Elissa found her.

Resting up in the bed against a pile of pillows, Kallian’s head snapped when Elissa walked into the room, eyes going wide at the sight of her savior. Elissa moved to take the seat next to Kallian’s bedside, the sight of tears begun to pour behind Kallian’s blue eyes. Elissa was not shocked to feel Kallian’s hand reaching out to one of hers and squeezing it tightly, a hoarse, “Thank you.” coming from the Elf’s lips. 

Elissa could only return the squeeze and give her a tight smile, “Decker said you needed to speak to me.”

Kallian nodded her head up and down, speaking in a low tone, “It’s about what h..he..Howe is doing in the Alienage.”

Elissa could hear Anora shifting closer, her hands going to rest on the back of the chair Elissa sat in.

“Go on, Kallian.” Elissa whispered as soft as she could, squeezing her hand to reassure her.

Kallian nodded slowly, “It started after the Army came back. After I… killed Vaughan I escaped through the streets and was hiding out in the Alienage. The Arl’s men came in with these Tevinters saying a plague was spreading through the Alienage. The ones that questioned it were the first to disappear, they said they had gotten sick and needed to be separated.”

“And how did they find you?”

Kallian took a shaky breath, her eyes moving from Elissa’s to stare at the white blanket on the bed, “I knew something wasn’t right. I..I slipped into their Clinic to see what was actually happening. Warden, they’re  _ selling them to the Tevinters. _ ”

Silence filled the room. Elissa twisted her head upwards to glance at Anora, a mask had fallen over the Queen’s face. Anora seemingly refusing to meet Elissa’s eyes. Surely Loghain had to know? 

Elissa took a deep breath and looked back to Kallian, “What happened next?”

“I was too loud. They caught me and a few of the Arl’s men knew me. I thought I was going to face the noose but instead h...he wanted me for himself.” Kallian whispered out, a fresh set of tears starting to leak from her blue eyes. 

“Thank you for telling me, Kallian. Please get some rest.” Elissa said softly, giving her hand one more squeeze before standing. 

* * *

The Arl’s study was silent. No one seemed to want to break the silence that had filled the room since Elissa explained what Kallian had told her. 

Eamon sighed heavily from behind his desk, staring at the bottle of amber colored whiskey. Alistair and Duran wishing they were anywhere but here. Anora sat in one of the large armchairs in the room, having not spoken a word since Decker had gotten them. The aged knight himself stood near the door, eyes glancing in between the gathered people.

“It happened right under my nose.” Anora said loud enough for the rest of the room to hear, the blonde haired Queen shaking her head, “I had expected something, but this…”

“Your father must've known, Your Majesty.” Eamon growled out, his eyes snapping to the Queen.

Anora’s head moved up, narrowed crystal blue eyes staring at the vestige of the aged Arl, “And do you think I knew?”

“It’s a question that needs an answer, yes.”

Something snapped in Anora, the woman jumped to her feet and marched towards the desk where Elissa leaned against, “Do you think so low of me,  _ Arl Eamon _ ? That I would sell my own subjects into slavery to line my own pocket book? How dare you think I will do something as inhuman as this.”

Elissa took a half step in front of Anora, forcing the Queen to peer from over the Warden’s shoulder. 

“I do not know what you would to protect yourself.” Eamon hissed out. 

Elissa could feel Anora’s hand reaching for the hilt of her dagger on her belt. Elissa’s hand snapping to tightly grip Anora’s wrist. Elissa could see the tears about to break in Anora’s eyes, how the Queen’s age suddenly seemed to show on the long lines of her face and around her eyes. The usual youthful beauty marked and scarred by the burden of the Crown on her head. 

Eamon raised a brow at Anora, challenging her to say something more, Elissa’s body blocking the sight of Anora’s hand reaching for the dagger. 

The air in the room became tense, the rest of the members in the room being able to see what Anora had reached for.

“Is that what you want, Eamon? For me to be the evil person you so desperately need me to be.” Anora hissed out, moving her hand away from Elissa, allowing the Warden to drop her grip on Anora’s wrist. 

“What I want,  _ Your Majesty _ , is the truth of what has happened here since your Father took power.” 

Anora’s hands curled into fists, her face becoming flushed with anger, “The truth? You want the truth of what happened?”

“Yes, I believe we are all entitled to hear it.”

“A scared woman who had been blackballed by every other member of her Court wanting to believe when her Father came back without her husband. Praying to the Maker that he spoke the truth and watching him slip deeper into his madness. Powerless to do anything. Stripped of every power she once held until all she had was an empty title and crown.”

“Is that what you want to hear, Eamon? Of how I failed? There it is, I failed. I failed as a Queen, a ruler and above all else, a daughter.” Anora whispered the last words, stepping back from Elissa, her eyes fixed on Eamon. 

“Elissa, I don’t care how you do it, put a stop to what is happening in the Alienage. Bring back the leader and shove him into Fort Drakon. Bring whatever proof you can find back.” Anora spoke to the room, her eyes looking everywhere but Elissa. She turned and left through the open door. 

Silence hung over the room, the sound of Eamon clearing his throat and then speaking finally broke it, “I don’t believe it.”

Elissa shut her eyes and let out a deep sigh, her hand going to rest on the hilt of the dagger that Anora had reached for, “Maker helps us all.”

It was then that Alistair decided a change of the subject was needed, “Does anyone have any ideas on how to get in? Last I checked the gates were still manned by Loghain’s men.”

“I know how to slip in.” A new voice brought every head snapping to the direction of the doorway. 

Kallian stood in the doorway, wearing a borrowed tunic and pants, feet covered in a pair of used leather boots. 

Decker who stood next to the door shook his head, “No, you’re not going anywhere, Kallian.”

The elf ignored Decker and moved closer into the room, “I am the only one that knows of it. It’s how I was able to slip back in after…”

“No, Kallian. You’re too weak.” Decker stepped after Kallian, his hand going to reach out for the woman’s shoulder. 

“Warden, these are my people. My Family. I was born and raised along them and in part this is my fault. If i hadn’t did what I did, the Alienage wouldn’t of paid in return. Let me fix this.”

“Decker is right, Kallian, you’re just now recovering from it all. I can’t in good faith let you go and then see you get hurt again.” Elissa spoke as softly as she could, moving forward to rest her hands onto Kallian’s shoulders. 

“You need me, Warden! I can show you the way in. I know them, they’ll be more trusting if I’m with you.”

Elissa knew that Kallian spoke sense but the idea of putting the woman who had just been through hell into a possible dangerous situation didn’t seem wise. 

Decker’s eyes were pleading with Elissa to not make Kallian go. Glancing over her shoulder she could see Alistair and Duran sharing a look, it seemed this was going to be on her head.

“I swear that I won’t fight. I’ll show you the way and get you with my Family and then I’ll leave. I know I can’t fight but I  _ need _ to help you, Warden. They’re my Family. All I have left.”

She could suddenly remember Duncan forcing her to leave her Mom and Dad back in Highever. Her screams echoing off the walls as her parents waved her goodbye. The question that had plagued her from start; what if she had stayed? 

Elissa begun to nod her head slowly, “You leave at the first sign of danger. You run back here and tell Anora what is happening.”

“I swear, Warden. Thank you.”

“What of the Blood Mage we captured at Howe’s Estate?” Duran said from his spot next to Alistair. 

“I would wager he’ll be connected to the one we dealt with down at the Docks.” Alistair added in.

Elissa nodded her head slowly, rubbing her eyes with her hands. Her stare lingering on the open door where Anora had stormed out of, “That would be rather dangerous seeing as the loyalty of the Guard is split.”

“I will accompany you, Warden,” Decker finally moved his eyes from the young elf and back to the Warden.

“Loghain hasn’t issued an arrest order for you for killing Howe. And if the Guard hasn’t arrested you yet from the previous order, I doubt you have anything to fear for, Elissa.” Eamon said from behind his desk, rejoining the conversation since Anora had stormed out. 

“I have much to fear for.” Elissa mumbled to herself as she turned to walk out of the office.

* * *

 

The walk to Fort Drakon was quiet and thankfully short. Decker had sent word ahead of them to Kylon. By the time they arrived at the gates of the Fort, Kylon was waiting for them with a collection of other guards from his Company. 

“Warden, Colonel.” Kylon gave a short greeting to Elissa and Decker. 

The Guard Colonel turned knight didn’t seem put off by the use of his former title, he only nodded in return to Kylon, “Any issues?”

“A few questioning what is going on but it would be best if we hurry and not cause the balance to break quite yet.” The Sergeant tried to give a boyish grin towards the two but failed. The worry lines and age appearing onto the man’s features. 

Kylon and his men kept a tight ring around Elissa and Decker. Duran and Zevran seemed to be staring at the shadows expecting an assassin while Wynne prepared herself to deal with Atticus.  

Kylon lead them deeper and then downwards underneath the earth. Elissa could only recall a few times she had been in Drakon before and those meetings were always up on the higher levels. 

They passed through checkpoint after checkpoint, as they went deeper the rows of cells became smaller and less of. The light from the candles and torches barely providing enough light as they passed down into the lowest level of the Fort. 

“We shoved him into the Black Cells.” Kylon explained while he unclipped a large iron ring of keys from his belt and twisted a bronze key into the large oak door in front of them.

Elissa had only heard rumors of the types of people they kept in the Black Cells. Used during the Rebellion to hold key leaders underneath Maric, the newly made King had decided to keep using the cells for key political prisoners.

The smell of stale piss hit them like a wave when the group passed into the cellblock. Two guards sat at a small wooden table, hunched over a small candle that was the only source of light. The guards made no attempt to speak to Kylon and the others, locked in their own private conversation. 

The blue gem in Wynne’s staff came to life, providing a source of light as they walked through the pitch black cellblock. Elissa glanced in the empty cells as they walked, rotting piles of hay and the smell of dead hung over each cell. 

“Reminds me of the Deep Roads.” Duran mumbled out loud enough for the rest of the group to hear. 

Kylon lead them to the very last cell in the block, at the far end of the long hallway. The Sergeant cracked his knuckles across the iron bars of the cell, “You got visitors, Blood Mage.”

Wynne rested the head of her staff on one of the cross bars, the bright blue light lightning up the dark cell and end part of the hallway. 

Atticus was hugged the far wall of his cells. Fingers drumming slowly across the worn stone wall. A blue and silver collar wrapped tight around his neck, the fine robes he wore at the Howe Manor were torn and covered in dried blood from various beatings. 

The Mage’s face was covered in lingering infected cuts and bruises that refused to heal. His left hand attempted to shield his face from the bright blue light, his eyes burning from the first light he had seen in awhile. 

“I was wondering how long it would take for you to come down here, Warden.” The Blood Mage finally whispered out, his voice sounding strained. 

Elissa stalked closer to the bars, her eyes fixing upon the mage. The sound of her metal covered form echoed through the tight space. Her leather gloved hands resting on the cross bars of the cell. The Warden motioned with her hand for him to come closer. 

Atticus slowly forced himself up onto his shaking legs. Using the wall as his support as he limped to where Elissa stood. 

“You seem to know all about me but I know nothing of you, Mage.” Elissa spoke in a low voice, her hands still gripping the bars of the cell. 

Atticus crooked his head to the side, choosing his next words carefully, “I am Atticus of House Maevryn.”

The Blood Mage turned his attention from the Warden and to Kalyon, “See,  _ Guardsmen _ , it is not so difficult to be civil.” 

Kalyon’s nostrils flared attempting to take a step forward but Decker’s arm landing on his forearm stopped the Sergeant in his tracks. 

“Please, Warden, keep your dogs in check.”

Elissa’s right have gave an noticeable twitch, having to keep herself from smacking the man outright. His life meant nothing but she could recall her Father saying a softer approach at the start might tell a different tale. 

“You know why I’m here.”

Atticus had to lean against the rusty iron bars to keep himself upright, “Information always comes with a price, Warden.”

The tone added with the sneer that came from the Mage, the redhead felt something snap in her stomach. 

Elissa’s left hand balled into a fist and swifty was sent flying out to slam into Atticus’s stomach. While the Mage dropped like a sack of bricks, the Warden’s right hand went to wrap tightly around the man’s neck. Pulling back to slam the man’s face into the rusty iron bars. 

Atticus’s scream of pain echoed through the cell block. The others looking in between each other but Elissa’s attention was solely fixed on Atticus. 

Elissa’s hand flexed around Atticus’s throat, that tell tale sign of anger starting to bubble and boil in the pit of her stomach, “I am not in the mood for games today, Tevinter.”

The Warden relaxed her grip, allowing air to sneak into Atticus’s windpipe, “I so happened met another Tevinter down at the Docks before I happened upon you. Fancy that.”

“Cyprain.”

Elissa’s lips twisted into a smirk, “A friend of yours, Atticus?”

“Younger brother.” Atticus hissed out from in between his clenched teeth. 

“Who hired you? Why are you here in Ferelden?” Elissa applied pressure back to around Atticus’s neck reminding him who was still in control of this situation. 

Atticus didn’t answer. His hazel eyes looking up to the towering Warden. Her hand flexed tighter around his throat, Elissa’s next words being hissed out, “I have come to far, done too much, to let your silence stop me from ending this,  _ Blood Mage. _ ”

“Howe is dead, Loghain will be out of power in the coming days. What you tell me here and now will hold your future.” Elissa finished, her fingers easing around Atticus’s throat, red and purple marks appearing on his pale throat. 

She knew the others were passing looks in between each other. Elissa knew deep down she had no intention of allowing Atticus to live but with the Blight hanging over them, thousands of Darkspawn, Elissa’s only goal was to make it through each day. 

“Howe.” The mage finally whispered out, attempting to catch his breath from Elissa’s tight grip.

“When?”

“Two years ago.”

That made Elissa pause, her grip around his neck relaxing, “ _ What _ ? 2 years?”

Atticus’s bloodied lips twisted into a smile at the surprise that crossed over Elissa’s face, “Yes. The grand Lord Howe reached out to my Family. We have quite the...reputation of eliminating issues in the Imperium.”

“For what purpose? What purpose would Howe need slaves for? The Alienage?”

Atticus shook his head, “The slaves came later. Howe needed the funds and my Family have connections.”

“Did Loghain know of it? Did he approve it?”

“The funds were for the Civil War. All paperwork wore the Royal Seal. Lord Howe skimmed off the top, I doubt even Loghain knew of how much Howe took for his private funds.”

Flashes of Anora came to the forefront of Elissa’s mind. Eamon’s words echoing from the conversation in the study. 

No, Elissa could not believe it. Loghain had taken power from his daughter, it was obvious. With the powers of Lord Regent he could wield Royal authority without restraint. 

“Is that what is going on in the Alienage?”

“Elven slaves sell nicely on the market.”

Elissa caught Zevran shifting out of the corner of her eye but her attention was still fixed on the blood mage before her, “Who is the other one? You’re here and your other brother is dead. Who is still selling the elves?”

“My elder brother, Caladrius.”

The Warden, using the grip around Atticus’s neck, heaved her arm back and then forward, sending the mage falling back onto the ground in a clash, “That’s all we need from him, Kylon. Keep him alive until the Landsmeet.”

“Easier said than done, Warden.” The Sergeant replied. 

Elissa sent one last glance Atticus’s way, not liking the way the mage’s eyes followed her every move. 

The Warden could not shake the entire walk back to Eamon’s estate that she had missed something. There would be time to question him later, surely? If she survived this Blight she would have all the time in the world to find out everything that Howe planned and did.

* * *

 

Elissa searched the Manor high and low in an attempt to find Anora. Dressed now in her full armor, she needed to see her before they left. To at least reassure her that Elissa had not doubt in what Anora said earlier that day. 

The gardens in the back of the manor were not as grand as the ones in the Royal Palace but it was still a breath of fresh air in the crowded capital. 

Her leather boots and the sound of her armored covered form gave her away as she walked the paths. 

Anora sat on one of the stone benches, shaded by the cover of a few trees with bushes of different colored roses surrounding her. Elissa could see those blue eyes red and puffy from crying, her cheeks red and stained with tears. 

Walking forward, Elissa went to a knee in front of Anora. Placing her helm next to Anora on the bench and gently brought her hands up to Anora’s face. The Queen reached down and pressed her face into the Elissa’s neck, trying hard to ignore the cold metal armor her Warden wore. 

Elissa’s gloved fingers played with the lose strands of Anora’s blonde hair that had become loose from the bun. Pressing a number of kisses to the sweet strawberry smelling hair. 

There were no words that would make the situation easier for either of them. Only the feel of each other was the only comfort either could find in this nightmare life had become. 

“I wished we never left that cabin.” Anora whispered out softly, enjoying the feel of Elissa’s fingers stroking her hair and the back of her neck. 

Elissa couldn’t resist the snort that came from her nose, “Your Father would’ve sent an army to find us.”

“You would’ve kept us hidden, I have no doubt.” Came Anora’s soft reply, trying to soak up these precious few moments of happiness and warmth.

Elissa smiled into Anora’s hair, her face moving to rest her cheek on the top of Anora’s head. Green eyes drinking in the sight of pink and peach roses that were in already in bloom. Her mind wandering to a much happier time.

* * *

 

_ The silence in the armory for the sparring ground was broken when the door was kicked open and two female bodies nearly connected together came walking into the room.  _

_ Lips connected, their bodies were pressed tightly against each others. The auburn haired girl twisted the other around and used her body to shut the door and slam her against it. A gasp left one of their lips or perhaps both from the move.  _

_ “Not so rough, Elissa.” The blonde haired girl whispered out, looking up from her position pressed in between the door and her female friend.  _

_ Though it seemed Elissa seemed to have only one goal in mind. With their lips disconnected, Elissa’s mouth dipped downwards along the curve of the other girl’s neck, “Shush, Anora. We don’t have a lot of time.” _

_ “Calian and Fergus will be busy playing soldiers for hours.” Anora whispered back, fingers going to play with the hair at the back of Elissa’s neck.  _

_ “Even more reason to enjoy all the time we have.” Elissa grunted, going to bite down on the spot on Anora’s neck that the girl knew would cause  to moan.  _

_ And moan Anora did. Her blonde head knocking back into the wooden door as Elissa sucked down hard on her pale neck, “Leave a mark.” _

_ Elissa’s mouth disconnected for a few passing moments to look up at Anora, they were always careful when it came to their moments of passion.  _

_ Anora held a small smile on her face, blue eyes staring into Elissa’s with a slight raised brow. An obvious challenge if Elissa ever saw one.  _

_ “I’ll leave plenty of marks.” Elissa whispered out, her voice thick and husky.  _

_ Anora only had time to get a squeal out before her lover’s mouth was back on her neck and a loud thud could be heard as Anora’s blonde head fell into the wood of the door. Fingers moving up to lace through Elissa’s red hair and enjoy every feel of Elissa’s mouth and wandering hands.  _

_ It was sometime later after Elissa had made sure to leave a few glaring red marks underneath Anora’s collar that the two strolled through Castle Cousland’s garden. Their arms tucked through each others, it wouldn’t be an odd sight to see the two 17 year olds walking closely with each other, they were each other best friends.  _

_ “I am telling you, come to Gwaren this winter. Father is making me stay and you know he won’t ever be around.” Anora’s eyebrows wiggle slightly up at towards Elissa.  _

_ The taller girl rolled her eyes, “Your Father hates me.” _

_ “He likes you more than Cailan, he told me so..” _

_ “I don’t know. Mother talked to me about visiting Family…” _

_ “Please, Ellie. Think about it, we’ll be rained in half of the time. Just you to keep me warm.” Anora’s voice dipped slightly, nudging Elissa’s body with her own.  _

_ “You know, I remember a time when you were the blushing Ice Princess. Now you just can’t keep your hands off of me.” Elissa commented drly. Leading the two through the stone paths in the garden.  _

_ “It’s what you do to me.” Anora glanced around the empty garden before stopping the two girls in their walking.  _

_ Stepping up onto Elissa’s boots to cover the rest of the distance, Anora’s hands came up to wrap around Elissa’s neck and pressed their foreheads together, “Please?” _

_ Anora had a way of getting what she wanted. It was one of her many talents and Elissa could never resist the blonde haired girl. Staring deeply into those blue eyes the idea of having nearly months alone with each other did sound quite like heaven, “I would have to ask. It’s not up to me.” _

_ Anora reached over and pressed a lingering kiss to the tip of Elissa’s nose, “Eleanor loves me. She always says you spend too much time with the boys here.” _

_ Forgetting for a moment that just anyone could be watching in the gardens, Elissa’s arm wrapped tightly around Anora’s waist and hugged their bodies tight together, “It’s because the only girl I want to spend time with is half way across the Kingdom from me.”  _

_ A slight blush appeared on Anora’s cheeks at Elissa’s soft words. Her crystal blue eyes mixing with Elissa’s green ones as the two started to become lost in each other eyes. Anora closed the distance once more but this time pressing their pink lips together in a slow and sweet kiss.  _

_ The kiss broke with Elissa giving out a small breathless sigh. Their eyes meeting once again, if there was ever a moment to say those three words it would of been now.  _

_ Something caught Anora’s wandering blue eyes. Looking just over Elissa’s shoulder, her hands moved from behind the taller girl’s neck and went to snap a flower off the bush they were hiding behind.  _

_ A number of peach and pink colored roses were already in full blossom. Elissa’s arms around Anora’s waist kept the blonde steady as she leaned over and broke the stem of one of the roses. Bringing it back in between their bodies, Anora leaned up to rest the rose right above Elissa’s ear, “Pink and peach roses symbolize a secret love.”  _

_ Anora barely had time to get the last word out before Elissa clashed their lips together and moved them backwards to become fully hidden by the plants of the garden. A giggle coming from Anora’s lips before eagerly returning the kiss. _

* * *

 

Elissa leaned to the side with her right hand and broke the stem of one of the peach colored roses. The feel of Anora’s soft breath tickled her cheek as Elissa slipped the flower into the tight strands of Anora hair, resting it right above her ear.

The Warden was rewarded with a sweet kiss pressed to her lips. Slow and yearning, Elissa could hear Anora sigh into the kiss. The blonde’s arms wrapping around the back of the redhead’s neck. Skilled fingers weaving and undoing the tight braid she held her hair in. 

How they wished to both to simply live in this moment. 

Elissa rested her forehead against Anora’s, their flushed cheeks red with the need of air. Elissa’s hands gently gripping the Anora’s sides, moving her hands slowly up and down along the Queen’s body.

“I want to save him but I know I can’t.” Anora whispered out, her eyes shutting and focusing on the feel of Elissa’s hands moving along her body. 

“I know what you’re going to ask, Anora.”

“Can you fault me, Elissa? If it was your Father and our positions were switched wouldn’t you do everything to save him? No matter what he had done, a part of you would still do everything to save him.” 

Anora knew she shouldn’t of said those words but it was her last defense. The truth. Her Father was her everything right next to Elissa. 

The Queen had expected Elissa to break off their embrace but instead only squeezed Anora’s sides letting out a deep sigh. 

“Please, Ellie, if there is a way, let him regain his honor.” 

Elissa could never say no to Anora, it was one of her many faults. Ever since they were young, all Anora had to do was look up at her with those bright blue eyes and Elissa was a goner. She should of been moving away from the warmth that Anora provided, the comment on her Father threatening to bring back familiar nightmares. 

The Warden’s answer was turning her head to the side and claiming Anora’s lips into another slow kiss. The feel of Anora’s fingers tracing the sides of Elissa’s face nearly made the Warden cry. Why couldn’t it just be this?

Them. Together. With no other care in the world.

* * *

 

Her usual team was already waiting for her. Zevran and Duran giving her nod when she appeared into the main hall. Wynne stood in front of the small elf, Kallin, casting a number of blue spells over her. Standing not that far off was Decker and Alistair, the two men talking in low voices to each other. 

Elissa tried her best to keep the thought of Anora in the gardens away from what she had to do still. Her cheeks still flushed and her lips looking a little too red to be normal. She could see Alistair giving her a curious look but Decker spoke before her fellow Warden could question, “I sent word ahead to the City Guard, Warden. They should be able to back you up if things turn way south.”

“Alistair, while we’re gone, make sure Eamon doesn’t attempt anything he might regret.”

Alistair only gave her a nod and a boyish smile, “Don’t worry. No regicide will happen on my watch.”

If there was one thing her male Warden was good at was throwing a joke out when everyone really needed something to laugh at. Elissa tried to ignore the painful ping that rose up in her heart at the thought of something happening to Anora.

Finally Elissa turned to Kallian and Wynne, not missing the way the elder mage sent a glare in her way, no doubt disapproving of having Kallian joining them, “You have the lead Kallian. Let’s see this finished before it’s too late.”

The late morning sun was colder than it had been now that late summer gave into early fall. A sign of the changing in the season with a light cold wind coming off the coast and cooling the City for longer. 

The four followed after their guide, slipping from the Nobility Quarter and losing themselves along the tight backstreets. Duran and Zevran noticing that to start with Kallian lead them in circles to see if they were being followed or watched. 

Finally the group started to head in the direction of the Alienage. The air that hung around the group was tense but not like it had been as they marched closer to Howe’s manor. The silence Elissa held was the one the others were used too. Which at least made the others comfortable, watching Elissa snap like that was something none of them wanted to see again. 

Their elf guide lead them to what looked like a rundown warehouse. Entering into the building it was in fact namely empty, used years ago for a long gone trading company most likely. 

“There’s a tunnel that runs from here underneath the wall and into the back alleyways of the Alienage.” Kallian explained, leading them through the dusty and spider web covered pallets and crates. 

“Good place for a smuggler den.” Zervan mused out loud. 

“How did you learn of this? Does anyone else know of it?” Elissa asked, going to walk alongside the Elf as they walked to the far back of the warehouse.

“My Mother made it according to my Father. He was the one that showed me it. Said if I was ever in trouble I could use this to escape.” Kallian explained reaching the back wall of the warehouse. 

Elissa watched as the elf pressed herself to the wall and started gently knocking her knuckles across portions of it. Seemingly finding what she was searching for she pressed her hand into a small section of the wall down low where suddenly a small cutout appeared and moved backwards, a small entry door being opened. 

Duran glanced down at the small hole and sighed, “Just like home, isn’t it?”

What felt like hours of crawling through the small tunnel the group came to a point where it opened up to a small clearing with rusty iron bars and rotting pieces of wood bolted into the wall that lead up to a hatch. 

Elissa’s legs felt like they were on fire, out of everyone, even Duran, she wore the heaviest armor and crawling through that tunnel had blasted her calves. 

“The hatch opens up to one of the backstreets. I’ll go first and peek my head out..” Kallian tried to make for the ladder but was stopped by Elissa’s hand on her shoulder.

“No, no. I’ll do it.” Elissa dropped the leather strap that allowed her shield to be carried over her shoulder and rested it on the ground. 

Grasping the steps, Elissa made the short climb upwards, mindful of the weak wooden steps that sounded like they were going to break from the weight of Elissa’s body. 

Unlocking the latch on the cast iron hatch, she paused for several moments, waiting to hear if anyone had heard the sound of the rusty latch being unlocked. Hearing nothing, Elissa slowly eased the hatch open enough so there was a slit for her eyes to look out of.

Kallian spoke truly when she said it lead out to a back street. Piles of crates and plates of barrels surrounded the opening of the hatch that hugged up against the wall that was the border of the Elven community. 

Motoning for the others that it was clear, Elissa opened the hatch fully and climbed out. While she waited for the others she scanned and searched the nearby area. 

She wasn’t fully sure what she was expecting, with the truth of the Elves being sold into slavery, flashes of piles of bodies lining the streets and the smell of the dead seemed logical but instead there only seemed to be an uneasy quiet over the area.

The rest of the party appeared one by one through the hole with Kallian closing it behind them once everyone was gathered. Wynne gave a loud sigh of relief and bent down to crack her knees, “I am getting too old to be crawling through tunnels.”

Elissa was leaning up next to a wall of one of the buildings and scanned across the open street. There were a few Elves walking as fast as they could so it didn’t appear like they were running. She observed a few of the houses with large black X’s across their doors. 

The silence that hung over the buildings made the airs on the back of Elissa’s neck stand up. Zevran moved up next to her, eyes glancing over the X’s on the doors, “Plague?”

“They’re certainly going to great lengths to make it appear it is.” Elissa mumbled back. 

The sight of four patrolling soldiers made the two hug back to the wall. They were not City Guard nor did they bear the sigil of House Howe. The armor they wore were not of a Ferelden style, paired with the odd Dragon like sigils on their chests it must of been Tevinter.

“It was like this when I left.” Kallian whispered to Elissa, “They started enforcing a curfew too.”

After the rather blunt way they had gone about Howe’s Estate, Elissa knew they wouldn’t be able to pull that again. Maker knew how many Tevinters were hoarded up here. But if they were able to find Caladrius and capture him it could be enough to force the others into fleeing.

“We can’t risk marching through the streets killing all of them.” Duran offered out, his eyes looking around the maze of buildings, streets and alleyways. 

“When it first started they didn’t always patrol all of the side streets. There weren’t enough of them.” Kallian explained. 

Elissa glanced to Zevran and Wynne who only offered a nod in return. Both seemed more focused on keeping Kallian on her feet and how Elissa would respond to what laid before them. 

The redhead had to bite back a sigh, it was only expected for Zevran and Wynne to be wary around her. She had lost control at Howe’s Estate. 

“One foot in front of another.” Elissa mumbled out to herself. 

“What was that?” Duran asked up to her from his spot next to her. 

“Nothing, Duran. We’ll take the back streets. If you will guide us, Kallian.”

The blonde elf’s head bobbed up and down, “My home is not far from their headquarters. It’ll be a good spot to hideout and plan.”

Kallian took up the head once more with the group moving as silently and quickly as they could.

* * *

 

Anora supposed it was only a matter of time before Eamon finally crossed the line and sought her out. The odds were becoming stacked against what Eamon wished and Anora had no doubt that Eamon wasn’t done yet.

The Queen stood tall and proud in the middle of Eamon’s study. Showing her full height and looking down at the Arl from under the curve of her nose. She might not have a throne but Anora Mac Tir was only one thing now, the rightful Queen of Ferelden. 

“Thank you for joining me on such short notice…”

Eamon started but was shifty cut off by the snort that escaped from Anora, “Stop, Eamon. We both know why we’re here.”

Anora and Eamon had never trusted each other while Calian was alive. Eamon wanted to control Calian and ensure Redcliffe had a comfort spot no matter what happened. While Anora was the Queen that was never supposed to be, from an upstart Family of craftsmen. 

The Arl would never admit it outloud for fear of sounding Orlesian.

The fake smile dropped from Eamon’s face, his lips becoming pressed together into a thin line, “Alistair is of the blood, Anora. It’s time to stop playing these games.”

“Games, Eamon? I have no idea what you mean by games. The only games I see are being played by you.” This was the situations Anora were used to, being that Ice Queen everyone feared and hated. After so many months of emotional pain it felt good on one level to finally find something to take it out on. 

“You are a Dowager..”

“Calian and I were joint rulers, Eamon. If you recall.”

A shadow passed over Eamon’s face, Anora’s near laid back and uncaring tone was poking at Eamon’s restraint. 

“The Landsmeet could change that, Anora, you know that.”

“Is that a threat or a promise, Eamon?” Anora arched a gold brow in the direction of the man.  

“I  _ swore _ to Maric that I as long as I lived I would protect the Theirin bloodline. And I do not plan to stop now because of your ambition, Anora.” Eamon’s eyes narrowed onto Anora, his tone becoming more flat with each word that escaped from his lips.

“It’s curious that you swore to protect his bloodline when you were so quick to shove Alistair into the Templars and forgot he was there. Which I suppose would of been a mercy than being a Grey Warden. We all know the rumors of their Order. Both you and Maric doomed the Theirin bloodline when you forced Alistair away, Eamon.”

“He is here now, that’s all that matters.” Eamon hissed out. 

“Does it Eamon? Is that all he is to you, a means to an end?” Anora pushed further, enjoying a small bit being able to push the Arl’s buttons like this, how the emotions rushed across his face. 

“Then marry Alistair.” Eamon said after a long turn of silence, his eyes going to rest on Anora. Carefully avoiding answering Anora’s question. 

Anora was surprised on one level, they had barely been going back and forth. The Eamon she remembered would go for months attempting to convince Calian into doing something. He was too easy to bend, a feeling settling into Anora’s stomach. Something did’nt connect here. 

“Alistair is unfit, untrained and unwanting of the Crown.” The Queen finally answered after a silent staring match with Eamon. 

“He’s a good man..”

“This Kingdom doesn’t need another good man, Eamon! What this Kingdom needs is a ruler.” Anora hissed out, going to grip the edge of the large oak desk, blue eyes burning. 

“He could learn.” Eamon kept his own well against Anora, one of the few who was ever able to stand underneath the Queen’s glare without flinching fully. 

“Oh yes, he can learn. Just like how Calain was supposed to learn.” Anora threw back into Eamon’s face, enjoying the look that passed over Eamon’s features. 

“Alistair is not Calain.”

“And how would you know, Eamon? You threw him away, you made sure he would never be fit to be King. How many times have he told you no in the past weeks? This isn’t about Alistair, this is about you and what you want.”

A hushed silence fell over the office. Anora’s words had seemed to struck something inside of Eamon. The aged Arl’s eyes burning with the same anger that mirrored in Anora’s stare. 

“Don’t act like you care for him,  _ Your Majesty _ .”

“I care for him just as I care for this Kingdom. The darkspawn have destroyed this harvest, fields need to be replanted. Thousands of workers have died because of this Civil War and Blight. Nothing has stopped the darkspawn from spreading into the interior. The treasury is empty, we only have enough grain for a few years if the next harvests do not produce anything.”

Anora came right in front of Eamon’s face, fierce blue eyes holding his stare, “What would Alistair do then? When there are riots across the Kingdom because people are starving to death. How will he handle the nobles from raising up once more to restore order? When the winter sets in and our people don’t have homes to stay warm?”

“When the dead line the streets of the Capital, of every major city in Ferelden. How will he do then?”

“I was shoved into a loveless marriage to a man whose only goal was to stick his cock into has many things has he could. Surrounded by snakes who wanted to get rid of me since the moment my marriage to Calian was announced. Spending years attempting to love a man that never wanted me. To become the ruler this Kingdom needed while it’s boy King pretended to be his Father.” 

Anora knew it a lie, she never loved nor attempted to love Calian. 

“He will break under the stress like Calian did, that dream you fought for as a young man will fail and everything good about this Kingdom will crumble. This Kingdom doesn’t need another good man, it needs me.”

The blonde was breathing hard after her speech, she was sure anyone passing outside in the hallway could of heard the Queen screaming but that was the furthest thing from Anora’s mind. Anora sent one last glare in Eamon’s direction before turning and leaving the office, allowing the door to slam shut behind her.

* * *

 

The war camp was not as large as Fergus would have wanted. They had gathered all the men, Lords and Ladies they could but he still feared that it would not be enough. That he would fail and in doing so fail the memory of his Family. 

The skies were still overcast with no sign of it letting up in the coming days. One rain storm after another rolled from over the sea and slammed into the famous Stormcoast. A lit drizzle covered Fergus’s march through the rows of tents to his own tent. 

The twin guards standing on either side of the tent flap snapped to attention and lifted it for the Lord. Fergus ducked his head and entered the makeshift war room. The dining room table had been transformed into the center piece for the tent. 

A single large map was rolled out across it. A detailed map of Highever and the surrounding farmlands. Various wooden pieces colored in Cousland blue were carefully positioned around key outlying farms and road stops. If they were to properly siege Highever they would have to take the slow approach to box in Howe’s troops. 

Fergus’s hands rested on the edge of the map table. His fingers drumming on the worn wood. The man was pulled from his thoughts by a familiar voice, “Thought I would find you here.”

Fergus peeked over his shoulder and offered a nod to Iona. The blonde elf took her spot next to Fergus and leaned her back into the table, looking up at him. 

Iona’s presence usually helped eased him. The soft skin, her breathless moans in his ear. It was one of the few pleasures he had left since returning from Ostagar. But tonight it was different, having the elf so close only brought the guilt and shame of what they had. 

He had loved Oriana, a part of him would always love her. But he felt the same for Iona, since the moment he had first saw her with Gilmore. 

His dead wife had always hungover the pair. The silent name never whispered but spoken always. 

The man eyes flicked to Iona for a few short moments before going back to the map on the table, “And what do you think of the proposed plan.”

He could see a look of disappointment flash across Iona’s face before it was gone. The fingers on his right hand twitching to lean over to interlace with her’s. 

Iona turned so her front was facing the map, “I prefer my plan. I don’t believe a head on fight would be the best in the long term.” 

Fergus’s lips thinned into a line, his eyes glancing away from the map and to Iona, “Do you not have fate in my ability to lead?  _ To win _ ?”

“That is not what I said, Fergus. We are evenly match and in the end we will win this war but the cost of life is already too high. We, you, most think in the long term. If we defeat Thomas in the field, both our armies would be ruined. Without the troops we could not march to as a relief force for your sister.” 

Fergus nodded his head slowly, “If we were to kill Thomas and only his trusted bodyguard we could force his other commanders into surrendering.”

“Precisely, Fergus. We need the troops..”

“A bunch of bullshit.” Gilmore’s booming voice echoed through the tent as he smacked through the tent flaps. 

The tall redhead man went marching up right next to Fergus and Iona, grunting in disappointment, “They would sooner stab us in the back than serve under the Cousland banner. They have been killing our men for months.”

“And how do you expect Fergus to actually rule if half of the Teyrnir is dead or attempting to kill him.” Iona threw the question in Gilmore’s direction.

The former Knight took his spot on the other side of Fergus, slamming his hands down onto the table and craning his neck to look at the Teyrn, “We can win this and send a message to all of Howe’s supporters that we will not allow them to snake their way out of what they did!”

“War is war, Gilmore. But we most think in the long term. If we can turn our enemies into allies…”

“They will stab us in the back as soon as they get the chance!” Gilmore’s voice roared over Iona, the two screaming at each other with Fergus in the middle

“It’s a chance we most take! Reason must overrule emotion.”

Fergus only stood in silence, leaning forward to rest his elbows onto the edge of the table. His fingers rubbing small circles into his temples. 

The movement brought the two advisers back to reality. Both of them silencing themselves as they watched Fergus carefully. 

“Summon the War Council. I have made my decision.” The Teyrn’s voice was soft compared to the yelling match that had just filled the tent. 

It did not take long for the tent to be filled with the gathered Banns, Lords, Ladies and chosen Commanders of Fergus’s Army. Stuart offered Fergus a smile as he entered the tent, the grayed haired Bann Mac Ritcher nodding to the Teyrn. 

The other Highland Lords gathered around Mac Ritcher side of the table. The Stormlords that had gathered went near Stuart’s side. The likes of Bann Reinhardt of Widermere leading the Houses of the interior and along the Northern Road. 

The well matured figure of Bann Reinhardt bore down on Fergus. The woman’s grey eyes giving nothing away to Fergus. He was thankful for her House’s support, though he couldn’t help to wonder why she had sent her son in her place to the Landsmeet instead of herself going. 

“Any news from the scouts?” Fergus finally started, eyes glancing around the table. 

“Howe knows we have gathered our men but not where yet. Our plan to send ghost companies all around the City of Highever seems to be working.” Stuart explained to the War Council, his hands resting idly on the sword of his hilt. 

“And what of his forces?” Mac Ritcher questioned with grunts of approval from the Highland party.

“4,000 still camped behind Highever’s walls. There’s news that his other forces are dragging their feet to answer his call. With us barely numbering 3,000 it’s working in our favor. But each day that passes the closer his full force joins..” The young Knight answered. 

“They want to force us into a siege and force a battle on two fronts. From the walls of Highever to our rear.” Mac Ritcher replied, nodding his head slowly to himself. 

“We should prepare weapons, ladders, perhaps a tower. There’s enough timber here to build them. 4,000 men is barely enough to protect Highever’s walls. One solid push at a key spot on the wall and we’ll have victory before his relief force can arrive.” Stuart quickly added in, earning a few nods in agreement. 

“Nay, our men will get slaughtered attempting to take the walls. And Castle Cousland was built to withstand a siege.” A new female voice spoke up from the Highland party. 

The group parted to show a youthful ginger haired woman who seemed suddenly surprised to see the attention of the room turned to her, a red blush covering her cheeks. 

It took Fergus to scan his memories to remember the woman’s name, “Brianna Mac Gregor. Daughter of Lord Mac Gregor, correct?”

Brianna nodded slowly, her eyes casting down onto the table. 

Fergus offered a tight smile, “You are correct. Sieging Highever would take supplies and resources we can’t spare nor have.”

“Then what is your plan, Teyrn?” Bann Reinhardt finally spoke. Her silky voice contrasting the gruff and deep male tones. 

Fergus’s eyes finally caught the woman’s stare. Her black hair were pulled back into a tight bun, making the hawk like features of her face more apparent. While others shied away from keeping his stare, Bann Reinhardt stared past it. 

“Iona crafted a plan weeks ago. To minimize the loss of life and maximize our gain,” He could feel the attitude in Gilmore’s stand shifting displeased that he had decided to take Iona’s way over his. 

All eyes turned back to the elf who had been silently standing next to Fergus’s side. Her hands clasped behind her back, “As you know, Thomas is holding a ‘celebration’ for his victory over us. My spies inside of the City can sneak selected soldiers behind the walls at key points. Into Castle Cousland, the gatehouse of Highever, the City Guard barracks to name a few. After Thomas and his men have drank their fill we can open the gates to the City and have our men storm in before Howe knows what is happening.”

The room became silent as the Spymaster explained on, “Paired with men inside of the Castle Cousland if we act fast enough we can capture Howe’s key commanders and points in the City to force a surrender.”

“And if they don’t surrender?” Mac Ritcher asked.

“We already have the element of surprise, we will have their commanders and Howe already captured. It will be a short battle to win.” 

“So we’re putting our faith of this entire campaign into the hands of your Elves?” Bann Reinhardt spoke. 

“Or we put the faith of this entire campaign into sieging a City that would require triple the amount of men that we have.” Iona was unaffected by Bann Reinhardt’s piercing stare, or pretended it didn’t affect her. Fergus could not tell the difference. 

“It is my intention to follow through with Iona’s plan. We are few here with the rest of the Kingdom in the Landsmeet. When Howe is defeated the threat of the Blight still hangs over us. The Darkspawn have yet to reach this far north in any sizable force but I will not leave my Sister to fight this war alone.” Fergus’s eyes cast over each member of the Council, stopping on Bann Reinhardt once more. 

“I don’t like it, Your Grace,” Mac Ritcher finally said, shaking his head, “Too much room for bad to happen. If this is all a trap laid by Howe.” 

“I have full trust that my agents haven’t been turned.” Iona answered simply. 

“If it is successful we could be able to get the Houses still loyal to Howe to flock to our banner. Armantherine could be taken on our march to Derniem,” Stuart’s voice spoke for the other Stormlords who held the most to gain from Armantherine falling from Howe’s hands, “The Stormcoast stands with this plan.”

Fergus’s attention turned to the Highlands now, the group whispering among themselves before finally Mac Ritcher nodded his head slowly, “We have followed you since the start, Fergus. You have lead us all these months and we will follow you until the end.”

Bann Reinhardt stroked her chin, watching the others while the other Houses of the interior spoke quietly along themselves, “I darest say it’s a plan worthy of your Mother and Father.” 

Fergus looked to his side where Gilmore stood. The tall bear of a man finally giving him a nod, “Aye, Fergus. I have already followed you this far.”

“It is agreed then. Iona, spend word to your spies inside of the City. We most use these next days to prepare fully as best as we can.” Fergus leaned forward onto the table with all attention turning back to the war map. 

“We will use the cover of night to move our forces into place near the City. Double the efforts of the ghost companies to keep Howe off the scent. How long do we have, Iona?”

“A few days at the most.”

“Very well. I will select the soldiers that will sneak into the City walls. Gilmore and the Highland Lords will lead the center, Stuart your forces will take the left, Bann Reinhardt and the rest will take the right. We will break our large camp here and separate ourselves.” Fergus marked the map with the blue colored wooden figures.

“Is that wise, Your Grace? With our numbers evenly matched, it’s keeping Lord Howe from entering into open combat with us.” Lord Mac Richter said. 

“If we are to keep the element of surprise, we need to keep ourselves well hidden. The ghost companies will only work for long enough, but if he actually sees the different parts of the armies moving too, it’ll only add to the paraional. We only need to buy enough time for a few more days.” 

“And what of you, Your Grace?” Bann Reinhardt asked.

“I will lead the men behind the walls. It is only right that I grace Howe’s party myself.”


	6. Chapter 6

The Highever Alienage glowed in comparison to the one in the Capital. The largest of them all, the streets were cramped and lined with buildings. 

Elissa could feel it in the air. Something was off, these streets should be busy. Filled with the sound of people going about their day to day lives. Instead there was only an uneasy silence. It brought the hairs on the back of Elissa’s neck to stand up. 

Something unnatural brew in the air. 

While they were lead by Kallian, Elissa shifted back in the line, allowing Duran and Zevran to be right behind Kallian. Leaving Wynne and Elissa at the rear. The elder Mage gave Elissa a small smile, “You feel it too, don’t you?”

“I wonder if it comes from being a Grey Warden.” Elissa responded in a whisper. 

“You may be Fade sensitive. We did walk through the Fade. Even for Mages the effects can be life changing. For those without the gift, Maker only knows.”  

Elissa could only shake her head in response, “Maker only knows a lot of things when it comes to my life.”

Wynne’s lips twisted into a smile and patted Elissa’s forearm, “Now you’re sounding like my students back at the Circle.”

“I..I’m..” The words started to fail from her lips, her green eyes searching Wynne’s face as they walked. 

“Even the strong falter and falls, Elissa. It is how you climb back up is what matters.” Wynne offered her another smile, it was sadder this time, not quite reaching her eyes. 

But Elissa couldn’t help to wonder if it was Wynne or something unseen to the eye that was talking.

The group had to take a number of detours to escape patrolling soldiers but finally Kallian said they were nearing closer to her home. From how the homes grew larger and how the streets became cleaner, Elissa guessed they were reaching the center of the Alienage.

The Elves they passed were quick to avoid them and disappear from view.

Elissa stood next to Kallian when they finally came to a stop in front of the elf’s home. A large two story building that wasn’t far from the center of town. Elissa could see Kallian struggling to keep herself together, her thin shoulders starting to shake as her hand reached up to the hatch.

Kallian’s hand finally pushed the latch on the door up and used her should to nudge the door wide open. The small elf walked in first with Elissa only half step behind her, the redhead hand reaching down to the hilt of her dagger. 

It looked like they were the first people to step through the threshold in a number of weeks. A thick layer of dust covered the house. It did not take long to see it appeared a struggle took place. Tables, chairs and other oak furniture shattered across the floor. 

Kallian walked deeper into the home while the other eyes glanced around. Zevran motioning to the drops of dried blood across the dusty floor that lead to the front door.  

The elven woman gave a sharp cry and fell to her knees in the middle of the room, sobs rocking her body. Duran was the closest to her, the dwarf not having to bend over any to wrap his arm around her shoulders and bring her to his chest. 

Kallian used the back of her hand to dry her tears, “M..m..my father, Cyrion. He’s gone.”

“Zevran, Duran, check upstairs.” Elissa motioned for the two men to exit

Duran shot Elissa a look from over Kallian’s head but followed Elissa’s wishes. Giving the elf woman one last pat on the back he stood from his spot and gathered his axe, following Zevran up the stairs. 

Elissa came close to Kallian. Taking a knee next to the women as she dried her eyes, “Where would’ve they took him?” 

“They took him.” Kallian’s voice rang hollow in the empty home, her eyes stinging with tears still, “I wasn’t enough for him, wasn’t I. The things he  _ did _ to me. The things he made others do to me. It still wasn’t enough. He had to come here, to my  _ home _ .”

Kallian’s piercing blue eyes did not flinch away from Elissa, “What you did to him wasn’t enough, Elissa. He deserved more  _ pain. _ ”

Elissa found herself without words at the truthfulness that came from Kallian’s tone. The Warden’s mouth opening but no words being able to be formed to offer anything back to the elf.

“Kallian?”

A new female voice brought Elissa attention back to reality. From upstairs she could hear the two men taking the stairs back down to the ground level. The three woman’s attention all snapped to the figure standing just beyond the doorway. 

Standing roughly at the same height of Kallian, the woman standing in the doorway was also Elven. With short red hair that didn’t even touch the tops of her shoulders had the trademark knife shaped ears peeking out. She wore a set of well worn leather armor with twin hilts of short swords peeking out on either hip.    


Kallian’s eyes went wide at the elf, “Shianni..?”

The redhead’s lips morphed into a smile, going to cross the distance that still separated the two, “Kallian!”

Kallian climbed to her feet and met Shianni half way, both women throwing their arms around each other, “There was talk you were back but I didn’t believe it!”

Elissa stood back up to her full height; Duran, Zevran and Wynne gathering around her while they watched the two women hug. 

“If the community know we’re here the Tevinters will learn of it too.” Zevran whispered over into Elissa’s ear. 

“Shianni, this is the…”

“The Grey Warden.” The redheaded Elf finished over her cousin, amber eyes glancing in between Elissa and her party. 

Elissa unclasped her helm and slipped it from her head. Her red hair was pulled back into a tight braid with only a few strands breaking free around the front of her head, “We’re here to help. This is Wynne, Senior Enchanter of the Ferelden Circle, Duran Aeducan Lord of House Aeducan, and Zevran Arainai.” .

Shianni nodded to each member as Elissa introduced them until her eyes landed on Zevran, “No fancy title?”

“Crow Assassin doesn't have the same ring as Lord Aeducan or Senior Enchanter.” Zevran teased with a half grin.

“Ignore him, lassy. He’s just showing off.” Duran spoke up from next to Zevran.

“Ignore my dwarf friend. His  _ smallness _ makes him prone to fits of jealousy.”

Shianni’s eyes narrowed,“I am glad to see that someone can make a joke of this..”

Zevran’s grin faltered and failed from the red anger that dripping from Shianni’s lips. Zevran only giving a small bow of his head, “My apologizes.” 

“It is only the four of you?” Shianni’s eyes moved away from Zevran and back to Elissa who stood in the middle. 

“We can’t risk open war in the capi…”

Elissa started but was cut off by Shianni stepping up into Elissa’s personal space. Their bodies becoming only a mere inch away from each other. Elissa was a bit taller than the Elf, but Shianni still stared down at her, “Open war in the Capital. Is that what you were going to say? We wouldn’t want good Humans dying for us dirty Knife-Ears. Would we?”

Elissa’s jaw clenched tight, her nostrils flaring, “It is not that…”

“Then where are the Queen’s men? The City Guard? Anyone, anything more than you  _ four _ . My home, my people, for the past year have been sold into slavery in the heart of the Kingdom. And no one did  _ anything _ .”

“And I have had nothing to do with it. I am here now to end this. You have every right to be angry for what has happened but it must not be directed at me.” Elissa spoke in a low and cool voice, attempting to keep her anger in check. 

She understood the anger Shianni had but most of the Elves had who had been subject to slavery. When they were planning mere hours ago Elissa did not even take into account that they would be  _ angry _ for only a few showing up to save them. 

Shianni’s mouth opened to say something but was stopped by Kallian’s hand reaching out for her shoulder, “Cousin, she saved me and she’s here now. That’s all that matters.”

Shianni’s amber eyes were still leveled with Elissa’s even though Kallian’s soft words had some effect on the fire in Shianni’s eyes, “The Crown will answer for what happened here,  _ Warden _ .”

“Queen Anora will ensure the situation is handled and investigated properly.” Elissa words rung hollow in the home.

“My people saw you enter but the Tevinters don’t know you’re here yet. They’re planning something big. Their squads of men have been breaking down doors every night since Howe died.”

“Is there a back way into their base?” Elissa spoke for the group, “We could slip in and deal with them from the inside.”

“We’re not going to play games with them, Warden. If you are here, you are here to help. My people have been waiting for a chance like this to finally take back our home.” Shianni hissed out, her eyes going back to Elissa’s. 

Elissa felt her right hand twitch, “Shall we stand idly by and watch you be butchered?”

“Coming from the ones that have subjected my people for generations!”

“Now isn’t the time for this!” 

The two redheads were glaring at each other from over the short distance. It wasn’t until Kallian came in between them and started to push Shianni back that the spell was broken.

“Enough, Shianni! She isn’t the one to be angry at!” 

The home grew silent while Kallian whispered in a low voice to Shianni. The other Elf’s eyes glancing in between Elissa and Wynne. 

Elissa lifted her helm back up and placed it back onto her head, she ignored the two elf women and walked back outside, taking a deep breath to steady herself. 

She understood perfectly that Shianni had every right to be how she was but it did nothing to ease Elissa’s growing anger at the elf. 

“Not everyone is going to look at you with open hands and open hearts.” Zevran deep silky voice broke Elissa from her thousand yard stare.

The Warden’s head snapped over to where the elf stood. The former Crow standing with his arms crossed over his chest, his lips offering a smile to Elissa. 

“I know that, Zevran..”

“I don’t think you do, Elissa. In the end, this Blight, this Civil War, people’s lives have been permanently changed and not for the better. The community here has been forgotten by its ruler, you need to show them that someone actually cares. Not storming away because Shianni doesn’t bow before you.”

Elissa’s eyes twisted away from Zevran, her stare going to her hand wrapped around Starfang’s hilt, “I didn’t storm away because she didn’t bow to me, Zevran.”

“It sure appears that way. She and her group has been left alone for months. What they need now is that Elissa Cousland charm.”

Elissa clenched her jaw, she hadn’t storm away because Shianni didn’t fall to her knees before her. The Warden gave out a deep sigh, Zevran was right, of course. On one level at least. Now wasn’t the time to allow anger to get in the way of progress. 

“What do you think, Zevran?”

“She appears fiercely independent and most untrusting. It might be best for us to take the back seat on this. We are here to help them after all and only they will know how to deal with the Tevinters.” 

“They’re going to get slaughtered, Zevran,” Elissa turned, her voice whispering as her eyes glanced around the road, “These are not just slavers, they’re soldiers. Battle hardened versus what? A bunch of angry townspeople?”

A shadow passed over Zevran’s face, Elissa could see that the elf was trying to hold back from saying something. He took another small step closer to her, “Give them some hope, Elissa.”

The two were staring at each other silently when the rest of the party exited the house. Shianni looking in between the pair as she spoke, “Follow me. My people are already gathering.” 

The elf and the woman held each other’s stare for a moment longer before Elissa slammed her visor down and motioned to Shianni, “Lead the way then.”

* * *

 

Elissa wanted to sigh, deeply. Gathered in some back warehouse her eyes scanned over the gathered group of fighters. To be fair to Shianni, there was a lot, with more pouring into the warehouse with every passing second.

They were poorly armed, only a few actually having real weapons and even fewer having any level of armored protection. They were a mob, nothing more than that. If the group they faced at the docks were going to be anything they were about to face, Elissa prayed the Maker was on their side. 

More than a few were looking in her direction. The Warden herself standing in her full glory with arms crossed over her chest. It was a part of the reason why more and more were willing to fight now, if the Warden was here surely they stood a chance. 

Elissa didn’t miss the way how many of them looked. Shinny, ill, many just being skin and bones. Slavery, right here in the Capital, right under the nose of the Crown. 

She didn’t believe for a moment that Anora knew, but Loghain? Did he know? Did he allow it to happen to fund the Civil War?

“I can hear your thinking from across the room.” A soft voice broke Elissa from her thoughts. 

Green eyes met Kallian’s blue ones from the short distance. The blonde elf was looking better with each passing day, the color returning to her skin, but Elissa didn’t miss the slight shake in her right hand. How Kallian was glancing over her shoulder often. 

“Wynne says the same thing.” Elissa tried to force a smile, nodding her head to the elf. 

The pair came to stand side by side, looking out over the group. Zevran and Duran speaking to a number of fighters while Wynne was in the corner examining a small child that looked like he had seen better days. 

“I wanted to apologize for Shianni. She...what happened here changed her. She is thankful for you being here, we all are thankful. It was you who saved me and it’s going to be you that free us here.” Kallian’s voice was still soft, looking up at Elissa with her bright wide pair of blue eyes. 

Elissa shook her head, “I understand where she’s coming from.”

Kallian tilted her head to look up at the Warden due to their height difference, “I...I heard about your Family, Elissa. I’m sorry.”

She wasn’t able to hold back the sigh this time. It escaping her lips while she rolled her shoulders. Elissa took her time to pick her words carefully, remembering Zevran’s words from before, “I am sorry for what happened here. If I had stayed in Highever it wouldn’t be all that different from this.”

Kallian still stared up at her as if the small elf was studying the Warden. A hand reached out to gently grip Elissa’s armored forearm, “But you’re here, for whatever reason, you were meant to be here. Just like how I was meant to be captured by Howe.”

Elissa’s eyes kept on Kallian’s, wondering for a moment if that is how Kallian got through all those months under Howe’s thumb. Elissa knew it wasn’t the place nor time to wonder that question but the words started to leave her mouth before she could think, “And how are you, Kallian?”

Elissa noticed a small twitch on Kallian’s right side, only there for a moment before it had disappeared. The elf patted Elissa’s forearm while moving her hand back to her side, “Is there anything you would like me to tell the Queen?”

“Tell her to send the City Guard as soon as she can.”

“Of course, Warden.” Kallian gave a forced smile and moved away from Elissa, leaving the Warden alone once more. 

Placing her burgonet helm back onto her head, she tied the strap underneath her chin and went to rejoin the rest of the group. 

The group became silent when the Warden approached. The silver clad warrior resting her hands down on the hilt of her sword, green eyes looking towards Shianni, “And what is the plan?”

Gathered around a large centralized table in the middle of the warehouse with different maps laid across it. Shianni stood just on the other side of the table, amber eyes met green, the elf studying the Warden closely before speaking, “The slavers are hold up in the Elder’s Hall in the center of town.”

Shianni pointed to a spot on the map laid out in front of her, directly in the middle of the walled off Elven town, “Every road in the Alienage leads to this point. We have more than enough people to march down each road and block off the front.”

“And of the back?” Elissa’s voice rang out, bringing a hushed silence over the room as all eyes turned to her. 

“They won’t flee,  _ Warden _ .”

Elissa was glad she was wearing her helmet or else everyone would see how badly she was clenching her jaw to keep her from saying something. Yes, Shianni was correct, they could block the front, but with all those bodies there would be no means of escape for them. 

Buildings hugged and surrounded the open square making it the perfect place for large numbers to matter not. 

“If we throw everything we have..”

“And where is the ‘we’ in this, Warden?” Shianni’s voice hissed out, speaking over the Cousland and causing more than a few brows to raise. 

Zevran wrapped his hand around Elissa’s wrist to remind her of what was at stake. The silent reminder made Elissa bite down on the inside of her cheek as she got out, “Of course. I’ll follow your lead.”

Elissa did not miss the smirk that plastered itself onto Shianni’s lips at the sight of making Elissa Cousland swallow her pride. 

“As I was saying, our numbers will overwhelm the slavers and we’re push them out of the square and back into the Hall.  By nightfall the Alienage will be our home again.”

The cheer that rose up in the warehouse fell on Elissa’s deaf ears as she turned and walked out of the building, Kallian following behind her. 

“Goto the Queen, quickly, Kallian. Tell her to send Ser Decker and whoever else he can muster. We’re going to need them.” Elissa’s voice was surprisingly soft for the anger that boiled just below the surface. 

Kallian looked as if she wanted to say something but the look in Elissa’s eyes kept her silence. Only giving a hurried nod before turning to run off back to the way they came into the Alienage. 

“Maker watch over us.” Elissa mumbled to herself.

* * *

 

Kallian moved as fast as her legs could carry her. Her lungs felt like they were on fire, the various pains shooting up through her body as she used the little energy she had recovered from Howe’s dungeons but she knew Elissa was relying on her.

Taking the steps of the Arl’s Estate two at a time, the elf crashed through the front doors and ran up the main staircase. Turning right and then left to come before the Queen’s chambers, Kallian took a deep breath to fill her lungs with air and pounded her fist against the door. 

It only took half a moment for Erlina to open the door, looking as if she was about to yell at whoever had the gall to pound on the Queen’s door but stopped short at the sight of a flushed Kallian.

“W..Warden Elissa,..” Kallian struggled to find her breath, resting her shoulder up against the doorframe. 

“Who is it Erlina?” The Queen’s voice came from inside of the room. The baby blue dress the Queen wore entering Kallian’s blurry vision. 

Gathered again in the Arl’s study, Eamon refused to make eye contact with Anora, their screaming match still echoing through his ears. The aged man nursing a glass of something strong as Kallian spoke. 

“My Cousin is without reason, Your Majesty, I..I know what type of force they face.” The Elf bowed her head towards the Queen who stood in the middle of the room. 

“Ser Decker, call upon the guard and that Sergeant Kylon. Arl Eamon, will you lend your forces?” It sounded less like Anora asking and more her demanding. 

The Arl’s eyes met the Queen’s, taking a long sip from his drink, “I shall send Ser Perth and a collection of forces with the City Guard, Your Majesty.”

“Very well. I was not there when this started, I failed my people. But I  _ will _ put an end to this. And bring all those who had a hand in it to justice.” Anora sent one long glance over the room, meeting Alistair’s eyes who gave her a reassuring smile.

* * *

 

It was quite the sight in these days to see a full armored column of mounted knights and foot men-at-arms marching through the streets of the Capital. The white cloaks of the City Guard contrasting the dark red steel armor of the forces of Redcliffe. And most of all was the hulking golem at the end of the column. 

Anora and Eamon rode at the head of the column. Eamon dressed in a set of red steel armor and Anora in a much more functional black long coat with leather jerkins underneath. A silver clasp on her left shoulder ran down the front of her body with it holding a grey half cloak down the curve of her back. 

The gold crown shimmered from on her head, keeping her blonde hair in a tight bun, blue eyes scanning up and down the barred gates to the Alienage. Her leather gloved hands tighten around the reins of her horse, jaw clenching at the sight of the yellow wyvern on a black field flying from the gatehouse. 

“Ser Decker, Alistair, with me.” Anora called out behind her. Trotting her horse across the stone bridge with the aged knight and Grey Warden following behind her on horseback. 

“Company, halt!” Kaylon’s voice yelled out from behind them, the loud altogether sound of the City Guard stopping their march to a halt. 

“Redcliffe, halt! Archers, notch!” Ser Perth’s voice came next, behind the neat lines of foot soldiers, the more lightly armored longbow men readied their bows. 

This is what Anora had wished to avoid since the start but she knew that it mattered not now. The smallfolk were gathering at the sight, the tensions from the Landsmeet finally brewing over to open combat in the middle of the capital. 

A few lone soldiers stood ontop of the gatehouse, coming forward now at the sight of an armed host standing before the gates. 

With Decker and Alistair on either side of her, the trio came to a stop in the middle of the bridge. The former Guard Colonel speaking from his spot next to Anora, “In the name of Her Majesty, the Queen, open these gates!”

The soldiers upon the wall looked between each other, whispering to themselves and pointing in the vague direction behind them. Anora’s eyes narrowed, inching her horse that much closer, ignoring the look both men next to her sent in her direction. 

“The reign of my Father is over. He has usurped power from the Crown, thrown this Kingdom and Capital into chaos. If you lay down your arms and open these gates, you will be treated fairly and given quarter. Your crimes may be yet pardoned depending on your choice here now in front of the Crown and the people.” Anora’s voice rang out in the late afternoon air. Cool, calm and collected thankfully, while on the inside, Anora was praying her voice didn’t crack. 

She sent a half glance to the crowds that were gathering, she couldn’t afford to have them riot if taking the gatehouse turned bloody. 

A taller man appeared ontop of the gatehouse. More heavily armored and bearing a surcoat with the Mac Tir’s sigil upon it. Anora nearly gave out a loud sigh, she knew the man, of course her Father would send him to watch over the gate. 

Ser Lucan, one of her Father’s most trusted knights, friends and commanders. Whose unwavering loyalty to her Father was only outmatched by his stupidity to yield. She supposed it was only fitting to the man, the only reason he was knighted was because he held the center during the Battle of River Dane until the very last man. 

“My orders from the Lord Regent are quite clear on the matter, Anora.” The knight’s voice boomed out loud and clear over the bridge. 

Anora’s features twisted into a frown, ignoring the lack of her proper address, “Ser Lucan. Last I believed the ultimate power of authority rests in the Crown, not a Lord Regent.”

“You would do well to remember,  _ Your Majesty, _ that the power of the Crown comes from the  _ people _ . The freemen, the Bannorn, all the Houses. It is not _ divine right _ .”

Anora swallowed down a growl of anger, sending a glance over her shoulder to wear Eamon sat upon his horse in silence, a flash of an amused look on his face. 

That anger starting to boil to the surface as Ser Lucan looked down with the same amused look on his face that Eamon echoed. But it was Alistair that spoke up, “Shale! Will you come forward please?”

The ranks of soldiers parted as the large hulking stone golem marched forward. Shale knocking her fists together as she came closer, “Squashy human calls me?”

“Ser Lucan, open the gate. Or I will knock it down.” Anora’s voice was crisp, turning her attention from the golem and back up to the knight on the gatehouse. 

Anora couldn’t make out the emotions that was running over the knight’s face but the sneer was more obvious followed by his booming voice, “Archers, notch!”

The Queen was already moving back to the protection of her own forces, Decker and Alistair just behind her as they left Shale alone on the bridge. 

“Archers, draw!” Ser Perth’s voice rang out, drawing his sword and slamming down the visor of his helm. 

“Company, shields!” Kaylon’s command came next, the front lines of the City Guard raising their shields and locking together. 

“Archers, draw and loose!” Ser Lucan from the battlement screamed out to his own men, a hail of arrows flying from various points along the gatehouse, aiming down for the golem that stood alone. 

A few arrows stuck on random various points on the golem, in the cracks of the dark stone but otherwise, Shale stood unharmed looking amused by the humans with their arrows. 

The bridge started to shake and rock underneath the power short steps Shale begun to take, gaining up speed as Ser Perth’s voice rang in the background, “Archers, lose!”

A hail of arrows responded from behind the rows of soldiers, striking a few of the Lord Regent’s troops. It was quickly followed by entire gate rocking when Shale slammed into it. 

“Archers, volley!” Ser Perth yelled again, the sight of Shale slamming into the gate sending the defenders upon the gatehouse into a frenzy and fleeing, Ser Lucas sent one long last glance over the Queen’s men before disappearing from view. 

It only took another two slams before Shale had the gates smashed into ruins, a big enough hole for two men on horseback to ride in side by side. 

Spurring into action Ser Decker drew his longsword from his side and raised it up, “Clear them out! If they resist deal the Queen’s Justice, go!”

The mounted knights and sergeants were the first through the breach followed by the rest of the foot soldiers, with the commanders taking up the rear. 

Anora stopped half way on the bridge, looking over her shoulder at the crowds that had gathered. The white cloaks of the City Guard forming a barrier to stop the commonfolk from rushing into the Alienage. 

She was never well loved by the commoners, Calian always held more sway over them, being that golden King in his golden armor. Anora was stiff and prideful even though she came from the same ranks of them. 

Twisting the reins of her horse, she moved away from the smashed open gate and the fighting, heading to where the guard held back the peasants. 

Ser Decker was not that far behind, Alistair having gone into the Alienage already and Eamon now stopping from his spot on the bridge to watch what the Queen had planned. 

“Be wary, Your Majesty, whatever you plan to say or do could spark a riot.” Decker hissed out as the pair came to a stop. 

“Hear me, my people, my subjects, my countrymen,” Anora’s voice still rang out crisp and clear, standing up tall in her warhorse. The crowd calming at the tone of the Queen, “The tyranny of the Lord Regent, the Hero of the River Dane, my good Father ends today! He has installed a reign of terror over this Kingdom, it had infected us like a wound. Festering and oozing, unable to close.”

Decker was looking at her as if she had gone mad but Anora paid no attention to the Colonel nor the amused look that was falling from Eamon’s face, “He once was a great man. The Hero of the River Dane but the man that sits on the throne now is no longer that Hero. Though he is my Father and I love him, my love for Ferelden trumps all. My love for you, my people, comes first..”

“I shall restore order, I shall bring all those to justice and I shall bring peace to this Kingdom and defeat this Blight. I swear this before the Maker and His Holy Bride.”

Several long heartbeats passed, Anora could feel her own reaching to her ears, her palms sweating underneath her leather gloves. 

Before finally various cries of, “Long Live the Queen!” and “Death to the Lord Regent!” sparked up, the guard looking in between each other, unsure on where this went next. 

“No longer shall your voices not be heard. No longer shall the common folk live in the fear that has plagued this City since the start of my Father’s reign. Stand with me Denerim!” 

The cheers were almost deafening to Anora’s ears, allowing the smallest of smirks to come to her lips. Turning her head over her shoulder, Eamon and Ser Perth were turning and heading into the Alienage.

* * *

 

A large oak tree stood in the middle of the Alienage. A small stage built around the base of it where most likely in times past issues along the elves of the Alienage could be brought upon an open session. 

Now, bodies hung from the branches of the great oak. Swaying lightly in the wind, side to side. A deathly quiet had taken over the whole of the area. Behind the tree, on the other end of the square stood the ‘Elder’s Hall’, the largest building in the Alienage where the Elves attempted to govern themselves within the walls the humans built for them. 

Instead now oddly familiar banners flew from the walls of the Hall. A black dragon’s head on a field of blood red, just like the sigils of the soldiers that they had battled at the docks. 

“Our Blood Mage wasn’t lying when he said it was all connected it seems.” Duran commented from his spot next to Elissa, resting his hands, one over another, on the head of his axe. 

It must’ve of been the patriot that rose up into her throat but there was something so very wrong seeing a foreign banner flying from the walls in Ferelden’s own capital. 

Standing in front of the Hall was a collection of guards. Their dark armor going along well with the dark red surcoats they wore. A large table stood near the steps that lead up to the main doors to the Hall, a mage sitting behind it with a small line of Elves before it. 

With armored guards flanking either sides, their eyes were kept scanning over the rest of the square as if they too could feel the tension hanging in the air. 

All around them in the side alleyways and roads, hiding in the shadows, were the mod of elves that Shianni had gathered. The elf leader herself stood only an arm's reach away from Elissa, eyes staring forward at the goal in front of them. 

The airs on the back of Elissa’s neck stood up. While Shianni glanced back to speak to her troops, Elissa watched a shared look between the mage sitting at the table and one of his guards. 

Something was off. The silence was almost deafening now. Elissa’s head snapped to Zevran her green eyes searching for his amber hue ones. Something was very off. 

“Now! Now! Charge!” Shianni and the others broke into a mad and unorganized run from their hiding places. The square from every direction was soon filled with the mob of elves, armed with whatever they could find to fight with. 

And that was when Elissa finally realized their mistake. The square was a perfect place for an ambush. A natural bottleneck where the amount of bodies didn’t matter. 

The twin doors of the Hall burst opened, more dark armored troops pouring out, armored to the teeth in the finest arms and armor blood money could buy. From the roofs surrounding the square, lines of archers appeared, arrows already flying down, blackening the sun and raining down onto the elves. 

Elissa could only stare dumbly. There was a voice in the wind, next to ear, telling her that this was her fault. What she had wrought. Acting like a spoiled child having their moment of glory taken from them. 

The Warden watched in intensely painful seconds of silence as the first volley of arrows fell down onto the unexpecting elves. If it wasn’t the arrows, it was the cold hard steel of the foot soldiers cleaving through the half starved elves like if they were butter. 

Their screams would echo an eternity. 

Drawing Starfang from her hip, she kept her metal shield on her back. The blue flames of the sword coming to life as she slammed the visor of her helmet down over her face, “Zev, Wynne, get the archers! Duran, with me!”

An arrow head slammed into Shianni’s calf, causing the elf to fall to a knee, hand clasping the shaft of the arrow. Her teeth and jaw clenched in pain as blood poured from her wound. She watched all around her as her fellow kind dropped to the ground. Arrows sticking out from various spots on their bodies, the muddy ground becoming stained red with the blood of the fallen. 

She was stuck, paralyzed to do anything else but watch as body after body joined the growing pile of dead. 

Her head was ringing in her ears, tears staining her cheeks as she turned her head over her shoulder. And that’s when she saw her. 

Elissa charging forward, clad in her red-silver armor, the burning blue flames of Starfang shining. That dwarf charging next to her as they came closer and closer to the fighting. Above them, she could see an entire row of enemy archers being taken out by a well placed fireball from the mage. 

But Shianni’s full attention was on the Warden and the dwarf. The pair cleaving through the lines with such speed and ferocity that it made Shianni eyes go even wider. 

Elissa moved faster than any human should be able to move. Even in heavy plate armor. Twisted and pulling her body, a fierce war cry leaving her lips as the blue blade cut down soldier after soldier.  

It was like watching a wild lioness being freed from it’s chain. 

The silver armor became stained red with the blood of the fallen soldiers, but the Warden didn’t seem to notice. Taking on soldier after soldier, cleaving a hole through the slaver’s line, the dwarf right next to her the whole way. 

Gritting her teeth, Shianni broke the shaft of the arrow and stood through her pain. Lifting the a woodcutter’s axe over her head, she screamed over the chaos, “To the Warden! Follow the Warden!”

Attempting to stumble forward it was then that Shianni heard the sound of horse hoofs hitting stone ground. Coming from the ways her warriors  had just been coming from, the mounted knights and soldiers of Redcliffe and the City Guard. 

The troops came from both left and right, crossing and slamming into the sides of the Tevinter’s slavers and warriors. Shianni was stunned into complete silence, falling to her knees again along the bodies of the fallen. 

Elissa felt her lungs burning, soldier after soldier dropping underneath the skill of Starfang. She was single handedly pushing through the Tevinter line and forcing them up the steps to the hall. 

The mage that had been sitting behind the table from before attempted to retreat upwards while also trying to cast a spell from the tip of his staff. Starfang’s blade sliced through the base of the staff, cleaving the wood in half and forcing the man onto his back. 

The mage died with a cry on his lips as the blade metal stabbed down into his chest cavity, cleaving through it and shattering his right ribcage from the force of Elissa’s blow. 

The Warden could hear others joining the fight, horses and the battle cries of soldiers and knights. She sent a silent pray of thanks to both the Maker and Kallian. 

Elissa didn’t  have a second to catch her breath. A spear wielding soldier flying down from the steps attempting to shaft Elissa through her shoulder. Sidestepping, Elissa’s left hand grabbed the shaft of the spear and pulled down. The force the Warden wielded brought the man half falling down face first into the stone stairs. 

To only be caught by the tip of Starfang’s blade into his stomach. Wielding both the spear and Starfang in either hand, Elissa charged up the steps. Spear slamming into the thigh of another soldier as she attempted to step down to met Elissa. Twisting the spear head out and twirling her body, the blue blade met the back of the soldier’s head and sent it flying off her shoulders. 

Fighting still the square, Duran’s axe head cleaved clean through the unprotected shin of his enemy combatant. The soldier dripping as Duran’s axe cleaved through the hollow of his neck. 

Licking his bloodied lips from underneath his helmet, Duran’s eyes scanned the square. His left hand reaching for a throwing axe on his belt and sending it flying into the back of a retreating soldier. 

He watched as Shianni and another elf skewered a slaver with two different pitchforks and pulling outwards, separating the man’s upper body from his lower one. From the rooftops, Duran could see Zevran had rallied other Elves with him and were finishing taking out the archers that had rained fire down onto them. Assisted now by members of the City Guard. 

Tearing his axe from the man’s dead body, Duran marched forward over the piles of bodies that littered the square. His eyes on the staircase where Elissa still fought on. 

Twisting her body as her blade lobbed off the soldier’s head from their body, Elissa had twisted just in time to send Starfang slamming into the knee of a charging soldier. The metal and strength shattering the soldier’s kneecap. The soldier’s right leg fell forward, a brute cry of pain screaming from his lips. Running Starfang through the boiled leather top, Elissa twisted and pushed the man off the side of the staircase, leaving him half dying and hanging on the edge. 

But the Slavers had bought the time they needed to shut the twin doors of the Hall and bar them. Breathing hard and flexing her fingers around her sword hilt, Elissa stared out over the chaos of the square. 

The mud was permanently stained red now. The bodies of the fallen covered every square inch of the area around the tree. The red and black cloaks of the slavers far less in number than the piles of dead elves. 

The survivors stumbled their way through the bodies and bloodbath. A few slicing the throats of dying men, attempting to pull away their wounded kinsmen. Elissa suddenly found the need to lick her dry lips from underneath her visor, eyes taking in the sight of the line she had cleaved through and up the stairs. 

It was a sea of blood, bodies and guts. The crows were already collecting over the square. A feast for them. Elissa picked out Duran coming forward and then Zevran with Wynne coming from a side alley that emptied up into the square. 

The Warden stumbled to the side, free hand reaching to grasp one of the dead slavers to brace herself. The smell came to her, the quiet sobbing of dying men and women. Her green eyes snapped back up from studying the dead slaver and back to the sea of dead. 

Her hand tightened around her sword hilt. Until the point that it was painful. She stumbled from the steps, face winching at the sound of her heavy body stepping on the fallen below her. No matter where she tried to step, there was a body. A slaver holding his organs, hand bathed red in blood. 

A elf’s hands wrapped around her neck where her throat had been slit. The front of her body drenched in her own blood, eyes still wide in fear and pain. 

She spotted Alistar still on horseback, wiping clean his blade and trotting his horse forward, “Always scary to see you do that, Elissa.”

It was an attempt at humor that didn’t feel right. Not with the amount of dead the hoofs of his horse rode over. The sick sound of flesh breaking from the large heavy beast. She noticed too, Kylon coming forth and then Ser Perth and Eamon.

And then finally the Queen herself rode into the square, trotting around as her blue eyes took in the carnage. Ser Decker taking his place next to her with a few mounted City Guard acting as her personal guard. 

Elissa blinked several times for sound to come back to her. Met with the loud screams of dying men as the surviving slavers were killed where they laid dying. Her eyes found Shianni being held up by two of her elf fighters, even from the distance she could see the large wound on her leg. 

But Elissa’s attention was saved only for the Queen. Anora came closer to the staircase, eyes scanning over the bodies that Elissa had cleaved through and the blue flaming sword Elissa still wielded, “The situation, Warden.”

While Anora’s voice was calm and leveled, Elissa could see the concern that were burning in them. Wetting her lips, Elissa moved Starfang back to its resting place and lifted her visor up, “The bulk are now holding the Hall, Your Majesty.”

“Quite the position they have over us.” Anora commented, earning a raised brow from Elissa. 

“Eamon, Ser Perth, secure the rest of the Alienage, I am sure there are rats still hiding along the ruins. Sergeant Kalyon, have your men surround this Hall and assist with the dead.” Anora turned her horse to issued orders to the gathering men. 

“Your Majesty…!” Shianni started up, attempting to walk forward but fell once again from the wound in her leg. 

Anora arched a blonde brow at the elven woman, looking over her shoulder back to Elissa with a questioning look before looking back to Shianni, “Yes?”

“Allow my people to..”

“I shall not send more of my subjects to their deaths, my friend. You must be Kallian’s cousin.” There was almost a sense of amusement in Anora’s tone as she looked down at the elf from upon her horse. 

Zevran, Duran and Wynne joined Elissa near the base of the steps, the former Crow speaking to Eissa, “We’re wasting time.”

“Perhaps the Queen means to make terms with them.” Wynne spoke up.

Duran snorted, “You don’t make terms with Slavers. It would be political suicide for her.” 

“...And where were you when they started breaking down the doors to our homes!” Shianni’s screaming broke the group from their quiet conversation and back over to Anora and Shianni. 

Anora was still on horseback, looking down as Shianni was screaming up at the Queen. Holding back a growl, Elissa marched past her party and went to stand right in between Anora and Shianni. 

“Lady Shianni, I understand…”

“No you don’t,  _ Your Majesty _ . You haven’t stood by and watched everyone you cared for be sold like cattle!” The redhead elf screamed back, speaking over the Queen and now attracting the attention of the entire square. 

Lucky Eamon was already gone, Anora wouldn’t be able to hold herself back from snapping at his smirking. 

Before Anora could speak, Elissa came in between them, hand running over the side of Anora’s horse, in doing so running over Anora’s calf in which she gave a tight squeeze that would be passed off as Elissa reaching for something to steady herself 

But it’s intention was clear to Anora who screwed her mouth shut and swallowed down her pride. 

“You’re wounded, Shianni.”

“I can still fight. My people can still fight.”

“Look around you, Shianni.” Elissa’s voice was soft, glancing around the piles of bodies, most being the poorly armed elves. 

Shianni’s eyes dipped down, amber eyes were already wet from past tears and another wave was hitting the elf commander. 

“You and your people have fought well, but let me finish this, Shianni. I swear to you, right here in front of the Queen and the Maker, that the Slave Master will not escape my reach.” Elissa moved closer, going to rest his hands onto Shianni’s shoulders. 

Behind her she could hear Anora shifting in her saddle and then the sound of boots hitting the mud. The Queen came to stand next to her Warden, Anora’s sharp features softening, “I failed you, Shianni. I have failed many in these past months. What has happened here are crimes against humanity. After the Landsmeet and the Blight is finished, what happened here will be repaired and the Elves given their rightful place in this Kingdom.”

It was a daring promise that attracted the attention of nearly everyone in earshot. No doubt the Queen’s promise will spread like wildfire through the City within the coming hours. 

Shianni’s head popped up, locking eyes with the Queen. Swallowing down the pain that boiled to a near breaking point, “I...I need to sit down.”

It was the best Elissa knew she would get out of the elf. Watching Shianni limp off supported by two other elves who had her arms thrown over their shoulders. 

“I would stand on ceremony but I believe our job isn’t done yet.” Anora turned to Elissa, hands cupping in front of her body. 

Elissa opened her mouth to speak but instead was stopped by the sound of Shale marching up one of the alleyways and entering the square, “I see you brought Shale.”

“They didn’t wish to open the gate for me,” A smirk came to the corners of her lips, “What is our next step?”

“There’s a back entrance. Keep enough men out here to keep their attention. I don’t want to risk anymore lives for this.” Elissa replied, offering Anora a stiff nod and went to move away. 

“The same thought applies for yours, Elissa.” Anora said back softly. 

Elissa marched across the square and headed to where Duran, Zevran, Wynne and Alistair stood speaking, “I am coming with you, Elissa.”

“You know what Eamon will say, Alistair.”

“To the Fade with bloody Eamon, Elissa. I am not letting you walk in there with just three people.”

“I find that offensive.” Zevran remarked, at least the mood hadn’t killed his humor yet. 

Elissa stepped closer to Alistair and reached out to grasp his forearm, “I need you next to Anora. These Slavers are much more than that. I will not allow a Blood Mage to touch a single hair on her head.”

Alistair’s hazel eyes met Elissa’s, bowing his head down and nodding softly, “There’s no way I can convince you is there?”

“Not when it comes to her.”

In spite of the bloody scene around them, Alistair offered Elissa a smile, “It shall be done then, Elissa. At the first sound of it going south, I’m heading in there.”

* * *

 

The backdoor was unguarded and the door blown open. A few spare bodies of the elf mob and slavers littering the backway. Elissa fearing for a moment they had taken too much time to get here. 

Grasping Starfang in her right hand, she used the tip of the blade to edge the rest of the door open. Zevran right behind her with an arrow already notched and drawn over her shoulder. The small room that lead deeper into the building was empty, some kind of side storage room. 

Wynne entered next with Duran taking the rear. The Spirit Healer sighed softly, “Blood Mages. I can feel them.” 

Using her left hand, Elissa pushed the next door open slowly. The loud sound of the worn wooden door creaking open echoed loudly in the unnatural silence of the Hall. 

This room had been changed from a storage place to a makeshift kitchen, undoubtedly used by the slavers to host their meals. Pots simmered on various different cooking spots, plates and meals left forgotten on the counter. 

“We ruined their meal.” Duran mumbled out. 

Exiting out of the kitchens lead to a narrow hallway. The off muffled sound of voices could be heard coming from behind them. Leading back the way to where the front doors stood. 

Elissa shared a look with Zevran, the elf shaking his head, “We must find Caladrius before he can flee.” 

Turning her attention away from the direction of the front, Elissa lead the group onwards and deeper into the base. 

The hallway lead out to a much more open room. Filled with chairs and tables it appeared to be a common area before and still used the same by the slavers. A short staircase lead down to another door that had to be a basement while another set of oak double doors lead deeper. 

Voices could be heard through the double doors, raised and yelling but Elissa’s attention was fixed upon the basement door. Motioning off for the others to watch the main door, Elissa’s boots took the few stairs slowly. Her hand still grasping Starfang tightly. 

Her free hand pushed down the latch and slowly opened the door. A few lite torches gave some light to the room but it was the sight and smell that made Elissa’s throat close up. 

Piles upon piles of clothes, shoes and other various belongings.were stacked high in the room. A smaller pile of gold and silver jewelry, kitchenware and candle sticks stood in the far back. 

Elissa’s eyes fell over the scene and finally found a podium that stood near the door. Drawing herself closer a large worn leather ledger laid open on the wooden podium. A quill and inkpot looked as if they were just used. The ink still drying on the latest line in the ledger. 

“10; 7 males, 3 females. Only 5 would fetch a fair price, the others have been given to the Mages.” Elissa mumbled out reading the latest note in the ledger. 

Silence hung over the Warden, eyes darting back up from the ledger to the large piles of items. Green eyes slowly going wide as she realized what this was. 

Several long heartbeats filled Elissa’s ears. The piles of clothes and shoes nearly reached the top of the short ceiling. A deathly shiver ran down Elissa’s back as silence filled everyone of her senses. 

How many were they not able to save? 

Elissa’s nostrils flared, that grip on her anger loosening with each passing second. Swallowing down any emotion that threatened to spill over that would blind that burning anger. The Warden turned on her foot and headed back up the short stairs. 

Spare questioning looks came from the rest of her party but Elissa ignored them. Marching up to the double doors and pushing the doors open with her left hand. 

The main meeting place of the Hall was quite large, taking much of the space the entire Elder’s Hall took up. With rows of benches lining the sides of the room with a raised platform in the middle where the peoples of the Alienage could bring their grievances before the community. 

Large cages hugged the sides of the walls, packed to the full with the latest cargo of slaves. Standing on the raised platform was a tall and slender man, dressed in green and gold robes lined with fur. A dark oak staff resting in his right hand, attention on the doors that had just been pushed open. 

Surrounding him were another two robe covered mages alongside a retinue of sellswords. Every head in the room turning their head at the sight of Elissa clad in silver and red walking down the steps into the hall. 

“My, my, the Warden herself.” The mage leader’s voice broke through the silence that had gripped the hall since Elissa’s appearance. 

“Your brother sends his regards from the deep cells of Fort Drakon.” Elissa’s voice sounded muffled from underneath the visor of her helm. 

“Now, now, Warden. This doesn’t have to end in more bloodshed. We are not so uncivilized you and I, not like these elves that live along their shit,” Caladrius offered Elissa a short bow of his upper body, “But where are my manners. I am Lord Caladrius of the Most Ancient and Most Noble House Maevryn.” 

Behind Elissa Zevran snorted and mumbled something along the lines of, “Fucking Tevinters.” 

Elissa rolled and cracked her neck, fingers rolling along the hilt of Starfang, “I care little for your self styled titles, Slaver.”

“It’s actually Magister. Though my seat on the Magisterium has been empty for sometime. Lord Howe had some ambitious goals. Goals that I am sure will still be great interest to you, Lord Howe’s death or not.” Caladrius kept the same smile on his features. 

“I have little intention of killing you.” 

That earned a chuckle from Caladrius, “See, Warden, you and I are not so different. I see that anger flowing through you, how tightly you grip your sword. How easily you cut through the very best sellswords money could buy. What you want is power, to be remembered. Such is the wish of many but only a few could actually achieve it.”

Caladrius stepped off from the platform and moved closer to where Elissa stood. Crossing the distance with only the soft thud of his staff dragging across the wood floor to break the silence. 

The blood mage came closer to Elissa, well within arm’s reach, “I could make you a very rich and powerful woman, Elissa. Bring forth the splendor of Highever. I wonder why if that’s the Lord Regent has gone half insane with mumbling your name.”

“Loghain speaks of me often?”

“Oh yes, Warden. Rightfully so. Look at you, look at what you have done. I know for certain in my bones that this Blight will end underneath the slice of your blade, but it was after that interests me more. What you could become, the Queen you could be.” 

Elissa did not respond, looking in between Caladrius and the others who were hanging on every word of their conversation. 

“But you’re a smart woman, Warden. Perhaps a show of my power, to show you what I could do for you. All those elves, all their life forces would be used to strengthen you. A complex ritual and rarely taken even along the very practiced Mages of my art. But easy for someone like myself.” 

Silence filled the hall once more, Caladrius folding his hands on the shaft of his staff, looking at Elissa with that same simple smile. 

But the Warden had other plans. It only took a half step forward and to slam her head down into the man’s to send Caladrius stumbling back. The blood mage dropping his staff and head ringing from the force of Elissa’s headbutt. 

“Capture Caladrius!” Was all that Elissa yelled over her shoulder. An arrow from Zevran’s bow already flying over head and hitting it’s mark on one of the two other blood mages. 

Caladrius was faster than he looked. Crawling on his back and flipping back onto his feet, rushing back to where his men were, “Keep them busy!”

The Magister knew that there was no chance to kill Elissa and even his men knew that. The sellswords looking in between each other but had little time to make their minds up if they wished to flee or right. 

The two blood mages took their places on the raised platform, swaying their bodies back and forth as red wisps started to come to life in between their bodies. A number of sellswords dropped to their knees, screaming in pain and throwing their helms off their head.

One head popped and then another, the wisps of red around the twin blood mages growing brighter as the dead sellswords were used to empower their ritual. 

An arrow from Zevran was sent flying, slamming into the shoulder of one of the Mages but he chanted on unaffected by his wound. 

The sellswords were dropping their weapons and fleeing, attempting to make for any entrance they could without being cut down by either Zevran or Duran while Wynne chanted near the double doors that had walked through. Blue staff glowing white. 

Elissa had lost Caladrius in the chaos but her attention was fixed on the blood mages. A red circle appearing on the platform as their chanting became louder and louder. The elves in the cages rattling the rusty iron and yelling to be freed. 

The Warden took the steps up the platform two at a time, Starfang cleaving through one of the mages while a shadow figured begun to appear in the summoning circle. 

“Ut me, Magister!” The dying mage screamed with his last breath, the red wisp of magic turning black as the circle flared. 

“Ut me, Magister!” The other mage screamed before Elissa could drive a blade through his heart. His wisps of magic turning black similarity to the other mage. 

A twisted and corrupted creature formed out of the shadow as the wisps of black magic disappeared. Standing only an arm’s length away from it, Elissa’s eyes went wide, she had not had the displeasure of being this close to a shade in a number of months. 

It appeared to be solid, but with a black heavy hooded robe over it, it was hard to tell quite what it was. 

Lifting a black hand up, the creature slammed it into Elissa’s side, sending the Warden flying from the platform and onto her back a few feet away.

She could hear Wynne screaming her name over the chaos. Elissa’s ears were ringing in her head, attempting to climb herself back onto her feet. 

Elissa watched the shade stride forward. Hopping down from the platform, a crude and twisted looking black blade appearing in its right hand. The sellswords charged at the creature, figuring that anytime as now would be the time to switch sides to save face. 

The shade’s blade sliced down into one of the sellswords, a near deafening screaming echoing through the hall as the black blade struck right through the man’s heart. 

Twisting the blade from the man’s heart the shade turned in a flurry of black mist and robes, the black blade shattering the fine steel sliverite blade, shards flying in every direction. Elissa could see the eyes of the sellsword going wide at the sight, only having a moment to curse before the shade’s twisted hand wrapped around his throat.

A bright wisp left through the sellsword’s open mouth. His skin quickly turning a bright pale before turning darker and darker, his scream dying into silence. 

Rising to her feet, Elissa’s senses came back to her. The bright blue flames of Starfang coming to life while the Warden surged forward at the shade. 

The black blade and Starfang met in a wide arc. The star metal not breaking underneath the unholy power the shade wielded. 

If the shade could appear surprise, Elissa figured it did in that moment when Starfang didn’t break from underneath his magic. A deathly grow left from the shade’s hood, the creature going on the attack, the blade becoming a blur of black mist. 

Around Elissa, Duran’s axe cleaved into the shin of one of the last sellswords. His head snapping over the room where Caladrius was attempting to make his mistake, “Zev! The sodding mage!”

A clean cut with Zevran’s dagger sliced the throat of a sellsword, his attention turning to where Duran was yelling. 

Throwing the dagger into the throat of a charging soldier, Zevran’s arrow notched into his bowstring and charged forward as Duran did. 

Elissa grunted in pain as the shade’s blade connected with hers. Forcing her strength and weight forward as she attempted to shove the blue flames into the shade’s hood covered fast, “Get him!” 

Only a handful of guards were left, attempting to flee with Caladrius. The dwarf’s axe cleaved through the ones that stood before him. Zevran pulled his bowstring back to his ear and took a moment to steady his breath. 

Caladrius threw himself against the latched back door about to open it but was stopped from a stinging pain to his calf. Zevran’s arrow had found its mark and stopped the blood mage in his tracks. 

Using the door as a support, Caladrius gritted his teeth in pain. Grunting as he attempted to pull the door open so he could crawl through it and to freedom. The last two of his soldiers tried to pick the mage up but were stopped dead. 

A throwing axe from Duran cleaving through the back of one’s chain shirt and the other with an arrow to its throat. 

Within a second Zevran and Duran stood above the blood mage. The Elf holding an arrow notched and ready to send flying into Caladrius’s head whilst Duran tapped Caladrius forehead with his bloody axe head. Allowing the blood of his slain soldiers to drip slowly down the curve of the mage’s nose, “Don’t you enjoy blood, mage? You look so pale.”

“Perhaps give him a smile, Duran. It will be the least we can do in return for the lives he’s stolen.” Zevran’s fingers were itching to send the arrow flying into the mage’s skull and be done with it. 

Elissa still battled the shade. The legs of the shade becoming routed to the ground as Wynne’s holy magic begun to take hold and grow in strength. 

A sharp cry blew from the shade’s hood, white flames burning the shade’s legs and calves. Elissa used her strength to roll their blades off to her right side and then sliced Starfang through the shade’s side. 

A sharp howl echoed through the hall, the blue flames burning the shade. Taking a step back Elissa stabbed the blade into the shade’s hood, it connecting with flesh and bone. Twisting the blade out once more, Elissa swung the burning Starfang back around to cleave through the shade’s right shoulder and downwards. 

The creature dropped into a mess of black robes. It’s howling echoing louder and louder as it turned to a pile of ash. 

Taking a deep breath Elissa stumbled back, the high from the fight still sending the blood rushing through her veins, “Bring him here!” 

While the dwarf and elf dragged the wounded blood mage to the platform, Elissa moved to the cages on the sides of the hall. The captives becoming silent after having watched the Warden kill a shade in single combat. Swinging Starfang down, Elissa broke the lock on the cage and stepped back.

Coming from the doors they had entered from before, City Guardsmen and footmen of Redcliffe, a few bloodied from the battle to take the doors. Ser Decker and Kalyon were among those in the front, the aged man taking in the sight, “Open the cages and help them out. Kalyon, sweep the building, capture any who serves the slavers.” 

The elves had to carry a few of their own out of the cage, weak from whatever spells the blood mage had been testing on them. A pair pausing in front of Elissa. The elder of the two being assisted by two younger elves, the older man gripped the front of Elissa’s breastplate, getting out in between painful breaths, “Thank you, Warden.”

Elissa could only nod, using her free left hand to pat the man on his shoulder, “Your name.”

“Valendrian, Warden. Please find me later..” The man turned and started to cough violently into his shoulder. His entire body rocking in pain. 

Elissa waved the two other elves off to allow them to carry the man out of the building to get the proper help. 

The Warden was silent as she took in the hall. She moved Starfang back to her hip, lifting the visor of her helm up to rub her sweaty face. The soldiers and elves parted for Elissa as she stalked to where Duran and Zevran were holding down Caladrius. 

“And shall I face the Queen’s Justice, Warden?” The blood mage hissed out, his hand pressing down on the arrow wound. 

“In time. In time you shall pay for every crime you have committed these past two years.” Elissa said softly, resting her right foot down onto one of the wood steps. 

“Ah, I see that my brother has been speaking quite a lot. It’s information you want? It’s information that I have. My bag, over next to the door, get it and open it.” Caladrius motioned with his head to the back door that he had been attempting to flee out of. 

Ser Decker came to stand next to the group, hands resting over his sword hilt. Duran moved away and returned with the bag, handing it off to Elissa. 

The redhead’s gloved hands open the bag and looked through its contents. A number of scrolls and another ledger book. It was the scrolls that peeked Elissa’s attention, each bearing the royal seal on them. 

Taking the scroll off the top, she passed the bag to Decker and unrolled the first one. Reading out loud to the group; 

 

_ “By Royal Decree, Lord Caladrius of House Maevryn and his Family are hereby given the right to of trade on the soil of Ferelden. With all benefits and protections that come to any trader or trading company underneath the Crown.  _

 

_ His Excellency, the Lord Regent of Fereldan, Teyrn of Gwaren, Loghain Mac Tir _

_ His Grace, Teyrn of Highever, Arl of Amaranthine and Denerim, Rendon Howe” _

 

While Elissa read out the one in her hand, Decker opened another, his eyes narrowing as he handed it to Elissa next; 

 

_ “By Royal Decree, the Elves of the Denerim Alienage are hereby stripped of their rights and protections given to them by the Crown. To be branded as traitors to the Kingdom and this Realm, Lord Caladrius of House Maevryn are hereby given full rights to restore order to the Alienage and do as they see fit to deal the Queen’s Justice.”  _

 

_ His Excellency, the Lord Regent of Fereldan, Teyrn of Gwaren, Loghain Mac Tir _

_ His Grace, Teyrn of Highever, Arl of Amaranthine and Denerim, Rendon Howe” _

  
  


“The Queen’s Justice.” Ser Decker mumbled out to himself. 

“It does get worse, I am afraid. After we had restored order, a decree was issued to allow the slave trade. Of course, I was chosen to oversee it,” Caladrius silky voice rang through their ears, “There’s more too, Warden. I kept every message, every letter and every order since the start of this. And it’s all yours....”

The Magister was broken from speaking more with Elissa’s hand reaching down and grabbing the front of his robes. Pulling and dragging the man, Elissa ignored each one of his cries of pain as she dragged him through the hall and up the steps. 

Caladrius’s screams echoed throughout the entire courtyard, Elissa threw the man down the bloodstained stone steps she had been fighting an hour before. The heads of everyone in the square turning now to watch the scene. 

Anora and Eamon sat on horseback, ending their conversation when the mage’s cries broke it. The Queen’s blue eyes narrowed, nuding her horse across the square.

“Perhaps, _Lord_ Caladrius, I should give you a mob’s justice. Give you to the people whom you sold, beat and killed for your rituals. To the people that you attempted to beat under your fist. To watch them tear you limb by limb as your cries can be heard all the way to the Royal Palace where your precious Lord Regent sits shitting himself.” Elissa hissed out, sending a swift kick to the man’s ribs. 

“Warden, Elissa…”

“Your Majesty, the former Arl Howe and your Father, the Lord Regent, gave this man and his forces the right to sell your subjects, good people, for coin.” Elissa’s voice rang out crisp and clear, anger boiling from her tone. 

Ser Decker was not that far from behind. Walking pass the Warden and not sparing a glance to the downed mage, going to hand the bag to the Queen, “She speaks the truth, Your Majesty. It’s as we feared.”

Anora’s eyes read over the unrolled scrolls. The Queen’s back became straight, her teeth grinding together as Eamon drew himself closer, “What do they say, Ser Decker?”

“The Lord Regent and Lord Howe gave invited these blood mages here and gave them protections, rights. Stripped the elves of their protections to allow these slavers to sell them.” Anora answered. 

“Your father…” Eamon started but was stopped short by the glare Anora shot the man’s way. 

“Ser Decker, take the mage to Fort Drakon. Shove him into a cell and take the documents to my study.” Anora’s voice was emotionless, pulling the reins of her horse away from the scene and riding in the direction of the gate. 

Eamon watched the Queen ride away, the Arl dismounting and approaching Elissa who stood in silence, “Warden, I know you are close with the Queen, but think for a moment. What if she knew what her Father was doing…”

Elissa’s eyes flashed to Eamon’s. Eamon could see something snapping in Elissa’s eyes, her hand reaching for the hilt of her dagger on her belt. Eamon was only saved when Alistair approached and laid a hand onto Eamon’s shoulder, pulling the man back from Elissa’s reach. 

“Think very carefully in the coming days, Warden.” Eamon hissed out, watching as Elissa marched through the square and in the direction of the gate.

* * *

The throne room was silent. Only a few low burning torches offering light for the once grand room. A lone figure stood at the base of stairs that lead upwards to the throne. 

The man could remember the day that Maric found the chair in at a market stall. Eamon wanted to have a “real” throne made for the newly made King, but Maric just gave him that look and Eamon knew better to bring up the topic again. 

It was days like this Loghain wished he had that ability. 

It was all crumbling around him, the General knew that. With the Bannorn being swayed by the mountain of proof that was building. Every dark deed he thought that was necessary to win this war had only been proven to do otherwise. 

His eyes settled on the worn wooden chair. Everything he had done was for his homeland wasn’t it? 

Never before had those words rang so hollow. 

He felt tired, so very tired. The nightmares had started the night he left Ostagar. The same dream of standing before Maric’s slain body, the sword that had slain his dear friend in his own hands, blood dripping from it. 

The newest form was Anora. Him standing over her with the same sword leaving a massive hole through her stomach. His little girl, the only thinking he had left in this entire world. Her leaving his side woke up. Like the clouds parting after months of rain and finally feeling the warm feel of the sun on his skin. 

How long did he allow Howe to poison his mind with his little whispers? Why did he allow Howe to talk him into so many mistakes? 

_ “You were the one that agreed to it all.”  _ A voice whispered in his head that sounded a lot like Maric. 

The was the hard truth of it wasn’t it? No matter how he tried to reason it, he went along with it all. He could blame Howe, blame so many different things but it was him in the end and only him. 

What was it his Father used to say,  _ “What is a man a man that doesn’t make the world a better place?”  _

It seemed that Loghain knew the answer to that now. 

Loghain’s silence was broken when the doors of the throne room were opened and a man marched forth. Ser Lucan had survived the battle at the alienage with only a few minor wounds as opposed to the lack of men returning with him. 

“Your Grace, the Warden has taken the Alienage. They know now.” Ser Lucan’s deep voice broke Loghain from his thoughts. 

The Lord Regent turning his back to the throne and raising a brow at Ser Lucan, “It matters not, Ser Lucan. It’s over.”

“My Lord, if we escape the City now we can link with our forces over the river and then make for the south.” 

“I stripped the rights of the people I had fought my entire life to protect. I stood back and allowed the Couslands to be killed, I stood back and allowed this Kingdom to be thrown into chaos. Ser Lucan, there is no more running for me.” Loghain’s soft tone sounded odd on the man. 

“We could reason with your daughter, the Queen. Or do what Lord Howe wished and have her remov…” Ser Lucan was not able to finish that sentence. 

Loghain’s hand slammed into the side of Lucan’s face. Loghain’s free hand drew the dagger that rested on Lucan’s hilt and rested it against Lucan’s throat, “Get.out.of.my.sight.”

The Lord Regent sent the knight stumbling back, holding his bruised face as he fled from the Hero of the River Dane.

* * *

 

_ The scene was one he knew far too well. Ostagar. The ruins stood proud, tall above him. The Tower of Ishal burnt brightly, the beacon of light in the darkness. _

_ He was on his knees, surrounded by a sea of blood, bodies and gore. The fallen levies and knights of Ferelden. The blacken twisted bodies of darkspawn.  _

_ Loghain tried to stand but there was a rush of air behind him and then a stinging pain. A blade, a dagger cleaved through his armor as if it was nothing, hitting his shoulder blade, “Gah!” _

_ The Teyrn cradled his left arm, from where the pain shot up. He whipped his head back and forth, but besides the dead there was nothing. Not even the sounds of dying men, the growls of the darkspawn.  _

_ Loghain tried to stumbled to his feet, another gush of pain brought another stabbing pain, this time to center of his spine, “Arugh!” _

_ He reached behind him with his good arm, trying to search for the hilts of the daggers or the arrows but there was nothing. His fingers only met the warm blood that leaked from them.  _

_ That was when the figure appeared; he appeared.  _

_ Dressed in the same stupid gold colored armor. Blonde hair somehow shining with little light. He looked as if he had never died, if Cailan had survived Ostagar and now stood as a conquering King.  _

_ “Loghain, do you need help?” Cailan’s voice was strong but still very much gentle and soft. The King rushed to the aid of his trusted General, going to a knee in front of hi.  _

_ Loghain grasped the front of Cailan’s armor, pulling the manboy to him, “Cailan.” _

_ “So you do remember me with such fondness. How convenient for you.” The gentleness from the King dropped, kneeling there in front of Loghain, his cheerful eyes turned dark.  _

_ “How noble. Killing your King and army for the good of the Kingdom,” Cailan said simply, the burning leaving his eyes. His face became emotionless, “You could’ve of stopped. You had the chance. To give the command to charge, to at least cover the retreat.” _

_ “It wasn’t me! It was Howe’s plan. It…” Loghain trailed off, another sharp stabbing pain shot from another point on his back. Loghain’s head arched up, gasping for breath.  _

_ “You could’ve stopped.  But you, you, the Hero of the River Dane needed to save the Kingdom.” _

_ “Yo..you were going to sell our freedom to Celene,” Loghain gasped out through labored pain breaths, “You are not absorbed of your sins.” _

_ “What comes next I wonder in your tyranny? In your tragedy. How many more will die because of you?” _

_ “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” The Teyrn’s voice became low, cracking as silent tears rolled from his eyes. Looking into the face that reminded him too much of Maric’s. That's the truth, he didn’t want the Couslands to die. He didn’t want Cailan to die.  _

_ “No one ever does.”   _

_ Cailan reached for the dagger on Loghain’s belt, wrapping his left arm to embrace Loghain like he had always done. He placed the dagger into Loghain’s good hand, enclosing his fingers around the hilt and helped guide the dagger up to stab into his own armpit.  _

_ There was a choke of pain as the dagger hit into Cailan, a pool of blood slowly leaking from him. He leaned forward against Loghain, whispering with his last breaths, “Look at the conquering hero.” _

 


	7. Chapter 7

_ Gwaren, compared to the splendor of Highever and Castle Cousland, paled. Instead of cool marble and bright colors, the city of Gwaren was filled with dark stoned buildings mixed with oak. While the City of Highever enjoyed a well balanced weather system throughout the year, Gwaren only ranged in different shades of cold.  _

_ The people were an honorable sort but they were shaped by their winters. The Brecilian Forest held long forgotten secrets that even time itself forgot of. The Passage southwards into the wilds were always threatened with raids from the Wildmen. _

_ The Teyrnir’s Castle stood tall and proud over the rest of the City. Rebuilt by Loghain, it was made to survive a siege rather than to host dinner guests. It was only due to the Lady Mac Tir that the inside of the castle held some warmth to it and wasn’t different shades of stone.  _

_ In the times of Lady Mac Tir gracing the halls of Gwaren, they were filled with dark greens and blues to counter her husband’s favorite shades of grey. Since her passing, Loghain had not the heart to change what his dead wife had done, leaving the halls of the castle colorful.  _

_ “Stop, Ellieeeeee.” A girl’s voice echoed through one of the many castle’s hallways.  _

_ Hidden in a small alcove in the hallway, two girls were tightly pressed together. One tall with curly auburn hair pulled back into a tight ponytail while the other only a few inches shorters with perfect blonde hair done in a tight braided bun.  _

_ Elissa’s lips ghosted over the sensitive spot on the inside of Anora’s neck, her teeth playfully nipping at the spot. It caused Anora’s words to stop mid speech, the blonde’s hands gripping Elissa’s hips tight.  _

_ “Elissa…” Anora mumbled out arching her neck up into Elissa’s eager mouth.  _

_ The redhead giggled and moved her mouth away, pressing a kiss to the tip of Anora’s nose, “I have missed you.” _

_ Anora pressed her face into Elissa’s neck, modeling her body into Elissa’s as she enjoyed the feel of her lover after months of being away. After much pleading and deals made, Eleanor had allowed Elissa to spend a few months in Gwaren to spend time with her dear friend Anora. _

_ And with Calian being in the Capital, it offered the perfect opportunity for Elissa and Anora to spend time with each other away from prying eyes.  _

_ Of course, attempting to forgot that Loghain Mac Tir was also there and watched the two girls like a hawk.  _

_ Elissa’s hand trailed down over the curve of Anora’s back. The two girls wearing similar pairs of riding pants and tunics for their planned afternoon of riding. Elissa gave a chuckle when she felt Anora’s hands going to rest on Elissa’s stomach, fingers playing with the material of her tunic, “I am beginning to have a better idea than going out riding…” _

_ “I sometimes miss the days when you couldn’t look at me without blushing beet red and then everyone asking if you were sick.” Elissa teased dry. Moving away from Anora and offering her hand out to the future Queen.  _

_ Anora’s pale cheeks flushed red while she smacked away Elissa’s hand. Pushing herself off of the wall, Anora started down the hallway with Elissa next to her, “I could seduce you in more blunt ways if you wish.” _

_ Elissa couldn’t hold back a snort, which only grew into laughter at the sight of a grin playing on the corners of Anora’s lips, “We’re leaving the City anyways. Is that not far away enough so you can ‘seduce me’.” _

_ Anora stopped the two in the middle of the hallway, Anora flicking a gold brow up at Elissa as she stepped into Elissa’s personal space. This was the Anora that only E;ossa ever got to see. That grin on the future Queen’s lips, how her crystal blue eyes swimmed with warmth, those wandering soft hands that always wanted more.  _

_ Anora opened her mouth to say something but the sound of footsteps coming from around the corner made Anora paused. That grin dropped, the familiar Ice Queen mask following into place. The warmth Anora was just expressing replaced by a careful coldness.   _

_ The smile on Elissa’s face dropped at Anora’s sudden change. The redhead had to hold back a groan at the sight of who walked around the corner. The young Lady Elizabeth MacGarth was the same age of Anora and supposedly a close friend to Calian.  _

_ Dressed in a fine baby blue dress with black curls framing to the top of her shoulders, Elizabeth smiled a sweet smile at Anora, “Your Highness, I was just looking for you! I just received a letter from Prince Cailan, I am being invited to the Capital to spend time at Court.” _

_ Anora’s jaw clenched tightly, knowing what both Cailan and Elizabeth were playing at. How the girl’s smile didn’t reach her eyes, “Please send my Prince my love, would you?” _

_ “I will, Your Highness.” _

_ Elizabeth’s eyes flicked from Anora and up to Elissa, the smile faltering slightly. While Elizabeth could hold her own against Anora, the tall Cousland always made the MacGarth think twice about her words, “Lady Cousland, when did you arrive?” _

_ “Late last night.” Elissa replied cooly, green eyes bearing down onto the dark haired girl. _

_ “It’s a shame I will be with the Prince while you are here. We never get to spend much time together.” Elizabeth said with the same forced smile on her face. _

_ “I am sure you will have your hands busy with Calian.” Elissa said with a straight face.  _

_ Elissa had to hold back her laughter at the look that passed over Elizabeth’s face and how Anora’s head snapped up to stare at the side of Elissa’s face.  _

_ It wasn’t until Elizabeth had walked away that Anora turned and smacked Elissa’s shoulder before falling into her laughing, “Ellieeeeee.” _

_ “At least her Brother isn’t here. Come on, let’s have the kitchens pack us something to eat..” Elissa said with a half grin, throwing her arm over Anora’s shoulders and leading the two onwards. _

_ The ride out of the City was easy enough, with them planned to only be away for a few hours, Anora was able to talk their way out of needing an escort.  _

_ Outside of the city and losing themselves onto the side roads and trails, the two slowed down to a throt. The road was wide enough for both of them to ride side by side, enjoying the peaceful quiet of the woods. _

_ “My Father will be back from Dragon’s Peak by the end of the week.” Anora’s voice was the only cut to the otherwise silence.  _

_ “Should we get three months of shagging out of the way then? I am up for it if you are.” Elissa teased with a grin, looking over to Anora.  _

_ Anora’s cheels blushed red but the blonde only rolled her eyes, “Really, Elissa?” _

_ “I think we could do it if we start right now.”  _

_ Anora sighed loudly, looking up at the overcast skies, “Sometimes, Elissa, sometimes.” _

_ Elissa passed the reins of her horse into her left hand and reached over to grab the side of Anora’s saddle. Arching her head over to press a kiss to Anora’s cheek, “I missed you.” _

_ Anora twisted in her saddle, bringing her horse to stop for what she wanted to do. As Elissa moved her mouth away, Anora chased after it, clashing their lips together. It was awkward due to the distance and the horses underneath them, but it still left Elissa breathless.  _

_ Breaking the kiss, Elissa playfully nipped at Anora’s lips, “Come on, show me where we’re having this picnic at.” _

_ There was a small lake a few hours ride from the City walls that Anora had stumbled across a few weeks previously while she was out riding. It was a well hidden spot with a small cabin that was abandoned. The weeks following up to Elissa’s arrival Anora had cleaned up the place as well as she could.  _

_ Her nerves were starting to set in the closer the two came to the cabin. Anora wanted this to go well, she wanted Elissa to love this. Having their own place, hidden from everyone else where Anora wasn’t the future Queen and Elissa wasn’t a Cousland.  _

_ The two slipped off their horses and lead them by their reins the rest of the way. Elissa’s hand went to slip into Anora’s and gave it a tight squeeze, “This is beautiful. How did you find this place?” _

_ Elissa’s eyes were looking over the quiet lake, which was a runoff of the much larger River Drakon. Anora held on tight to Elissa’s hand, stumbling over her words to start with, “I..I..uh.” _

_ The redhead dropped her grip on the reins of her horse and twisted to face Anora fully. Her right arm wrapped around Anora’s waist and brought the blonde closer to her. Dropping her reins, Anora allowed herself to be pulled into Elissa’s chest.  _

_ Their small height difference worked perfectly for them. It wasn’t painful for Elissa to crane her neck down to rest her forehead against Anora’s and Anora didn’t have to reach up on her toes to reach Elisse, “Are you nervous?” _

_ “Only when I’m with you.” Anora replied softly, a ghost of a smile playing onto her lips. Anora’s small pale hands went to gently hold either side of Elissa’s face. The tips of her fingers tracing the curves of Elissa’s face.  _

_ Both forgetting they were standing in the middle of a forest and lost in each other’s embrace.  _

_ “Did I tell you how much I missed you?” Elissa whispered out softly, enjoying the feel of Anora’s soft fingers tracing across her face. Her body felt so relaxed and calm pressed next to Anora’s. They had been apart too long and every time they parted the wait became worse and worse.  _

_ She needed Anora by her side always, but Elissa feared to mumble those words.  _

_ “You might’ve mentioned it.” Anora whispered in return, her fingers curling around Elissa cheek as she crossed the distance to claim Elissa’s lips into a slow kiss.  _

_ Elissa’s right arm kept Anora tight close to her, not allowing her to break away and escape her grasp. It was a lazy kiss, truthfully alone for the first time since Elissa arrived the night before and without the fear of someone finding them. They were able to show their love for each other without fear, hidden along the tall pines.  _

_ Elissa took her time before pulling away, reminding herself of how Anora felt against her. Their kiss becoming lazy pecks to each other’s lips. _

_ Anora pressed her face into Elissa’s chest and took a deep breath, “I missed you.” _

_ Elissa pressed her lips to the top of Anora’s blonde head and gave the girl a tight hug, “Come on, show me our love shack.” _

_ Anora smacked Elissa chest hard and disconnected from Elissa, “What a romantic thing to call it.” _

_ The plan had been to only spend a few hours out in the woods before returning back to the City, Anora knew how her Father’s men acted around her when her Father wasn’t present. If even an hair was different on Anora’s head, heads would roll.  _

_ The cabin was homey, Anora had obviously put a large amount of work into it which secretly thrilled and impressed Eliss _ a.  _ With a bed in the middle and a hearth stood on the right wall with a cooking split over it. A closed window on the left wall offered the only natural light.  _

_ It was small but Elissa could not stop the blush from coming from her cheeks. Watching how Anora stood with her hands cupped in front of her, big blue eyes staring up at Elissa waiting for her lover’s judgement.  _

_ Throwing her sword belt over to the side and kicking the door shut behind her, Elissa stalked over to Anora. The Queen-to-be eyes only went wider as she was walked backwards in the direction of the bed,  _

_ “Do you know what you do to me?” Anora’s voice was soft near Elissa’s chin, lips pressing a small kiss to it.  _

_ “Do tell.” Elissa teased, softly pushing Anora down onto the bed. _

_ “You make me feel something that is impossible to put to words. One look from you, one smile, and all those walls I crafted to protect myself come crumbling down. All I can think about is you, having you, being next to you, holding you. It’s so very wrong but so very right.” Anora breathed into Elissa’s ear, leaving kisses up and down the side of Elissa’s sculpted jaw.  _

_ Elissa moved her head back just a mere few inches so their eyes could meet. Anora’s hands weaving through her lover’s auburn hair and undoing the tight braid, “I love you, Elissa.” _

_ Anora whispered the words before leaning up and claiming Elissa’s lips, going to roll Elissa over onto her back.  _

_ A storm had decided to make landfall and was hammering the forests of Gwaren. Not that Anora nor Elissa noticed too much. Anora’s blonde hair was free and sprayed across Elissa’s chest. Pale fingers tracing idle patterns over the curves of Elissa’s ab muscles.  _

_ Elissa rested with her eyes shut, her left hand playing with strands of blonde hair, “I wish we could stay like this forever.” _

_ Anora’s quiet voice broke Elissa from her post bliss. A green eye peeking open to look down at her blonde lover, “Forever is a long time.” _

_ “Do you think you’ll grow bored of me?” There was a teasing glint in Anora’s tone, but Anora moved her chin so she could look up at Elissa. Her finger still tracing over Elissa’s stomach.  _

_ Elissa leaned down to press a kiss to the tip of Anora’s nose, “I don’t think that’s possible.” _

_ A smirk played to Anora’s lips, leaning up to press a kiss to Elissa’s chin, “We could stay here. I wouldn’t have to be Anora Mac Tir, the feared Ice Princess. You wouldn’t have to be Elissa Cousland. Just Anora and Elissa.” _

_ “Live off the land?” _

_ “What else. You would like it, you enjoy hunting.” _

_ A small giggle escape from Elissa’s lips, Anora leaning up to press another kiss to Elissa’s chin. The blonde haired girl slipped back down to the spot she rested before, the smile that had plastered Anora’s face since the start fading away, “I don’t want to go back tonight.” _

_ It was foolish both knew it. Anora knew it better than even Elissa. But she needed this, they both needed this. For this to be more than just stolen moments away from prying eyes.  _

_ The sound of thunder stopped Elissa from rightaway, listening to how the rain was hammering against the wood of the cabin, “It does sound terrible outside and you sure are warm.” _

_ Anora watched in silence unaffected by Elissa’s gentle joke. Earning a sigh from Elissa, “Fine yes. Until the storm lets up.” _

_ “And if it never lets up?” _

_ “Then I guess we’re staying here forever.” _

* * *

 

Elissa sighed deeply into her tall glass of wine, her mind wandering to everywhere and anywhere that wasn’t Derniem.

It looked like a storm had ran through Elissa’s room. With the nightstand thrown from across the room and smashed into the wall, the wardrobe doors ripped off by her own hands. Nearly everything she could get her hands on that was furtinatine was smashed or broken in some form. 

Sitting along the shards of glass and wood was Elissa. Still dressed in her armor, the blood had dried now from the slain soldiers but the warrior didn’t seem to notice. Holding her head in her hands and sitting on bedroom bench, it was one of the times that the Warden wished she didn’t leave Highever alive.

How could she allow Loghain to go on living after everything he did? To sell his own people into slavery to fund a civil war? How could a man regain that honor? She knew before this she could’ve convince Alistair to at least allow Loghain die fighting the darkspawn. How that killing Howe brought her no sense of relief to her guilt. 

Anora asked for too much. She had always asked for too much. 

Elissa groaned loudly into her hands, the sound echoing off the thrashed walls of the room. Maybe it was all becoming too much for Elissa finally. The months of killing, all the death, all the stress was finally making her break. 

It made Elissa pause. Looking up from her hands and looking over the empty room. The Warden’s hands went upwards to drag something that hung from around her neck underneath the layers of armor. 

A small simple amulet hung from a brown strip of leather. A small symbol of the Chantry was carved into the silver. Elissa had never been that strong of a believer in the Chant of Light, it seemed more a political tool than any form of hope. That was until she walked the Gauntlet and came face to face with the ghost of her Father.

* * *

 

_ The place set the airs on the back of Elissa’s neck to stand up. At first Elissa thought this was simply some form of the Fade, a pocket where the veil was extremely thin and the two worlds became one. _

_ With every step she took deeper through the Gauntlet the truth became more and more known to Elissa. The Guardian's words still echoed through her mind. A pain that lingered deep in her being even now the weeks have turned into months from Highever and Ostagar.  _

_ The rest of the party was silent behind her. Each feeling the effect this place had on them. Duran rested his long axe on his shoulder with his eyes fixed on the ground. Zevran walked alongside him, while the two would usually carry on with a regular amount of banter, the Elf was silent with his eyes looking off into the far distance. With Wynne taking up the rear, her staff dragging slightly across the stone floor.  _

_ They had left the chamber of Andraste’s faithful and followed the cold stone hallway onwards. With the doors to another opening before them, her breath was knocked out of her throat at the sight in front of her.  _

_ Slow to turn as the door was opened, the male figure faced her fully now. Bryce Cousland just like Elissa remembered him. The same neatly trimmed goatee and grey hair. His favorite tunic and breeches on.  _

_ It was his smile that Elissa missed the most. Bryce gave a small nod of his head and smiled at Elissa, “There’s my spitfire.” _

_ Elissa crossed the distance of the room with a loud clang of steel and wrapped her arms around her Father.  _

_ Bryce didn’t stumble back the spirit or man gave a hearty laugh and wrapped his own arms around Elissa’s armored shoulders, “It’s good to see you too.” _

_ The woman couldn’t hold back her tears. She had dreamed of this moment for so long. Every night she would pray and pray for something, anything. To tell them how sorry she was for leaving them behind, sorry for everything that had happened.  _

_ But all she could do in that moment was hug her father tightly. The familiar scent of his cologne that Eleanor made him wear, filling her senses that always calmed her when she was a child.  _

_ She felt herself being moved back and being forced to look at Bryce in the eyes. His fingers brushing away her stray tears, “Look at you, at what you became. I know it wasn’t the path you wanted or planned to. But this happened for a reason, everything happens for a reason.”  _

_ Elissa gave a broken sob, “Dad…” _

_ “Shh, my girl, and listen to me closely.” Bryce’s hands went to cup Elissa’s cheeks and forced their stares together.  _

_ “The guilt, the hatred you have in you. You must let it go. You did not leave me and your Mother to die. It was our time. We lived a full and happy life. You have a great burden on your shoulders, Elissa. You must not falter and fall, too much rests on you.” Bryce’s voice held a calming effect on his daughter who hung onto every word he said.  _

_ “Your Mother and I have never been more proud of you. We love you so much, but please, let it go. And take this, to always remember we’re watching over you.” Bryce passed on a small locket into Elissa’s hands and pressed a kiss to his daughter's forehead.  _

_ And as swift as he was there, it was all over. Elissa found herself back in the room with her party members seemingly coming out of a daze. _

* * *

 

Elissa’s fingers curled around the locket and pressed it to her forehead. She couldn’t let go of it all. It was the one thing that fueled her. It was the reason she asked Duran and Oghren to train her to be a besker. To use that anger to cleave through their enemies. She used all that anger but as her weapon. 

Her Father’s words made her want to believe she could. Remembering looking at the Urn of Andraste made her want to believe that this was all happening for a reason. All the pain, all the death would turn out in the end. She had to believe that for what else could she believe? That everyone was to die and darkness would swallow everything whole?

A knock on her door brought Elissa back to reality, a few passing seconds later the door creaked open and Duran peeked his head open, “Do you mind if I come in?”

Elissa just waved at him, moving her eyes back to the locket. Duran had to throw some weight behind the door to open it all the way due to the broken dresser she had thrown in front of it. 

The dwarf shut the door behind him and strolled over towards where Elissa sat on the bench. Climbing up to sit next to her, Duran was silent while he brought his smoking pipe up and went to lite it. 

Elissa’s hands folded in her lap, staring at the door. Running her fingers over the material of the necklace, “Some days I wish I died at Highever.”

If it was anyone else they would start to panic that the supposed Grey Warden savoir was having her moment of doubt. But the former Dwarven Prince didn't answer right away, grunting slightly due to his pipe refusing to lite. 

Finally the smoking tobacco caught and Duran gave another sort of grunt as the tobacco filled his lungs, “Some days I wish you never dragged me out of my darkspawn infested hole.”

“I think I would rather take on the Archdemon then have to face the Landsmeet in the coming days.” Elissa sighed loudly and dropped her head back into her hands, the feeling of a headache coming. 

“Anora asked for her Father to be spared?” Duran shifted in his seat, looking over towards Elissa. 

“Can you blame her? I thought there might be a chance for it all to work out. I could convince Alistair to simply let it go, but now? Selling his own people to slavers? Can I willingly let Loghain live after he’s done  _ so much bad _ ? What kind of person does that make me?”

Duran moved the pipe away from his lips to blow a few small smoke rings. He slipped the pipe back to the corners of his mouth before speaking once more, “When I was younger dwarf I remember quite a case that shocked my Father’s Court.”

Ever since Duran had joined the Company, Elissa had leaned on the dwarf. For someone who had been through a nightmare not so different from herself, the Warden was always amazed and impressed with Duran’s ability to speak logic and sense. Compared to Elissa who showed cracks. 

“Two Dwarf nobles, one from the Noble Caste and another from the Warrior Caste had been caught as the leaders in string of murders of a number of Casteless women carried out by the Cata. I am not proud to say but that was not the shocking part. The shocking part was my Father arresting them and dragging them in chains through the entire Palace.” 

Elissa’s head peeked up from her hands, brows folding, “I am not that surprised that nobles were able to get away with actual murder.” 

“My Brother Trian was furious. Screaming and yelling at Father about how he would cause the Castes to rebel against him. Bhelen was too young to really understand what was going on and I simply stayed quiet. I was curious to see what my Father had planned.”

“He had the Palace Guard haul them in and threw them in front of the throne. My Father made it a point to read every single charge of each crime they did and the cost that demanded it. Maybe that what was his point in this all I thought to myself, to make an example out of them.”

“What did he do?” 

“He ordered their deaths truthfully. Right there and then in front of everyone. The two were crying, praying to the Stone and Paragons for him to spare them. He drew his sword and the entire throne room became quiet. He nearly slammed the sword right into one of their necks but suddenly stopped. Looked down at the two men then over the room and then back to the two men and said, ‘Killing the two of you will not bring the dead back. Sending the both of you to the Legion will only bring more pointless death. You will adopt the family members of those you slain, you will right the wrongs you did and you will live a better life.’”

“He went through all of that just to spare them?”

“He wanted to make a point. Trian was furious at him but then Father turned to me and looked me straight in the eye, ‘Duran. The mistake along our people is thinking it takes great courage to take a life when in fact it takes greater courage to spare one. Our people have only known death and sin, not hope and redemption. If one person can change anything is possible.’ Both of those men went on to become strong supporters of my Father and tried to right the wrongs they did.” 

The dwarf shrugged, “I still don’t know what to make of it. These men did terrible things, used the Cata to kill good people. More than a few turned against my Father that day for the action. But my Father always swore by his decision. To some it was completely erratic.”

Duran’s story rang through Elissa’s head. Moving her eyes away from the dwarf and back to the necklace in her hands. Fingers running over the silver metal, “I think I would've liked to met your Father.” 

“He was a good man and a good King. He was everything I wanted to be.” Duran said somberly, taking a few long puffs of the smoking pipe. 

“I..I am sorry about Bhelen.”

“We both knew it the moment we walked into the room that only one of us will be leaving it alive. He had gambled too much on getting the throne to see it end with you handing the crown over to Harrowmont,” Duran paused, blowing a smoke ring from his lips, “And I knew I wasn’t going to be able to kill him. If he came for me, I wouldn’t be strong enough to kill him.”

“You wouldn’t of had killed him? Not after everything he did to you? To your Family?”

“Did killing Howe bring you any relief? Will killing Loghain bring back all the dead on his hands? We have had enough death and even more left before us, Elissa. Let us spare a few more if we can. Just something to think about.” Duran finished with a pat on her knee before he slipped off the bench and left the Warden with her thoughts.

* * *

 

The Crown of Ferelden was a simple thing. With no grand gems and jewels. It was a number of gold bands interweave together to make a simple yet elegant Crown. Cailan had another made when he was crowned, at Eamon’s backing. A King needed a Crown worthy for his head. 

Ontop of a red plush pillow, Erlina had kept on shining it every day, the worn gold still shined after nearly 30 years of use. It was what Anora always hunted and now she wondered if it was what she truly wanted. 

Held in her right hand was the rose that Elissa had given her before. Twirling the stem in her fingers and moving the flower to her nose, there was still the slight smell coming from it. Laying the rose down across the gold crown Anora sighed deeply.

She never found the weight of the crown heavy on her head. Unlike Cailan who always seemed to crack under the stress of managing the Kingdom, Anora took it all with strides. She wore Queendom well. 

Anora had never doubted her role as Queen until this moment. The past year how much had she allowed her Father to get away with? When Loghain first came back from Ostagar alone he said that it was a strategic retreat to save the rest of the Army and Anora had actually believed him. 

But then the story changed, it kept on changing as if her Father was arguing with himself every day with what he did. 

What kind of Queen was she that her own subjects were sold into slavery underneath her nose? What kind of Queen allowed their Father to slowly be corrupted by power and those men around him? 

Her role of Queen, as sovereign, was questioned with her inability to properly rule.  

Every decision she had made as Queen in the past five years seemed to come back to her mind. Weighing on her more and more, how much wrong had she done? She could've tried harder, she should've tried harder. 

But it was her Father, her Dad. Anora couldn’t simply just forsake him no matter what her gut told her. 

Tears were starting to brim in her eyes as emotion pulled into her throat. Her vision was blurred but she could still see that gold crown in front of her. Taunting her. It was for that she had put up with Cailan, it was for that she had put up with so much. And where had it gotten her?

She had to be above petty  _ feelings _ . She was the Queen of Ferelden, duty came above all else. 

Overtaken with emotion her hands went to smack the crown off of it’s plush pillow and sent it clattering to the ground while the dams broke on Anora’s tears. 

Her arms wrapped around her body while sobs racked her form. How could she be a good Queen if she couldn’t even make a heir? How could she be a good Queen if she couldn’t even judge her own Father for his obvious crimes? 

Anora’s body fell of its own accord down to the ground. Her blonde hair draping over her face like a curtain of blonde sunshine. Her body curled into a ball not carrying that any maid or servant could walk in and see her crying on the ground. 

None of it was worth it anymore. Her Hero, her own Dad, had become something so twisted and tainted she couldn’t even see the real him anymore. It was the hard truth of what she had known for months, but to finally stare back and see it? 

The Queen in her said that he had to pay for what he did but the girl in her cried to have her Dad back. 

Anora didn’t know how long she laid there on the floor, her tears finally slowing and stopping. She could hear the sound of rain hitting the ground from outside one of the opened windows in the room. It was a soothing sound to Anora’s turmoil. 

Her blue eyes were slow to open, dried tears making her vision blurry but the very first thing and the only thing her blue eyes could see was the fallen pink and peach colored rose. 

When she knocked the crown off the table she must of caught the rose and didn’t even realize it. Reaching over, her fingers curled around the stem and brought the rose to her. Pressing it to her chest; Elissa.

* * *

 

_ Summer time always meant that Denerim was hit with storm after storm brought off from the Coastlands.  _

_ It was no different for this night. A freak storm had appeared on the horizon early that morning and by midday it had hit the City. Dumping rain without stop for hours and the odd bolt of lightning off over the sea, it was quite the sight to see.  _

_ At the time, Anora had not known why she asked Elissa if she wanted to stay at the Capital over the summer. Her 15 mind at the time simply saw those green eyes and everything else became mush.  _

_ It was two months into Elissa’s four month stay and the two had already became close friends. Elissa’s outgoing attitude countered Anora’s stiffness or ‘being an Ice Princess’ as some whispered about her. It even brought out a bit of Anora that she hide away deep inside of herself.  _

_ Pretending to be reading a book, Anora’s blue eyes stared from over the edge of the book to study Elissa. The Cousland was sat behind a piano, fingers playing a simple and slow tune as she seemed to be finding what she wanted to play.  _

_ It was quite the surprise to Anora that she found herself quite enjoying Elissa’s company in ways she shouldn't. It made the future Queen feel slightly dirty. _

_ She’ll smile and nod every time Elissa got close to tell her something but Anora’s mind was fixed on the smell of Elissa’s body lotion. That wavy silky auburn hair that Anora want to run her fingers through. That half smirk smile that Elissa did that drove Anora crazy with need. _

_ Anora’s mind would always wander to places she knew it shouldn’t be going.  _

_ It was something Anora had never felt before, never thought she would experience. It scared her. _

_ There was nothing Elissa wasn’t good at Anora had decided. If Anora was a different girl she might even be quite jealous of Elissa. No matter what Elissa wore she looked so beautiful. Flawless, even. With those green eyes she could get lost in, those cheekbones she wanted to trace with her fingers and then those pink lips… _

_ Anora nearly jumped out of her skin when Elissa suddenly pressed down hard on one of the piano eyes and sighed loudly, “I’m borrrrrrrrrred, Anora.” _

_ A faint red blush at appeared on Anora’s cheeks as she was pulled from her mental thoughts. It was becoming an issue Anora was realizing, daydreaming of Elissa, “We could play a game.” _

_ Elissa turned in the bench that sat in front of the piano and gave Anora a pointed look, “Really?” _

_ “It’s raining and it’s dark, what else we can do?” Anora didn’t bother to mark her page in the book, she hadn’t been reading it either way.  _

_ “Sneak out and go down the Port to watch the storm out over the bay.” Elissa’s pink lips twisted into a wry grin as she hopped up from the bench. _

_ “Elissa we can’t! My Father said I can’t leave the Palace after dark no matter the reason.”  _

_ Elissa crossed the distance from the piano to come and stand before Anora. Hands going to rest on her hips, the Cousland stared down at the Mac Tir, “That’s the point of sneaking out, Anora. Come on, it’ll be fun.” _

_ “What if Cailan asks for us and we’re not here? What if anyone asks for us and we have just disappeared?” _

_ “It’s in the middle of the night. I doubt anyone official will come with any type of business. And come on, do you really think Cailan will bother to peek his head in?” _

_ Anora’s eyes fell to the ground at the mention of Cailan. He was most likely playing with some Palace Maid again or trying to hit on one of the visiting Arl’s daughters. Anora’s nerves and anxiety was getting the better of her, playing with her fingers in her lap.  _

_ Why couldn’t Cailan be like Elissa? Elissa always paid comments on her looks or whatever she was wearing that day. Why couldn’t Cailan pick her flowers like Elissa did just because they made him think of her? Why couldn't Cailan defend her to those who gossiped about Anora like Elissa did? _

_ Anora was broken from any more mental rambling when Elissa kneeled down and clasped Anora’s hands. The blonde’s breath hitched in her throat slightly from the feel of Elissa’s soft hands holding hers. They had found out after exchanging jewelry that their hands oddly fit with the other.  _

_ Feeling Elissa’s hands fit perfectly into hers never failed to bring a blush to Anora’s cheeks. She could hear Elissa’s voice speaking to her, “We both have been stuffed in this room all day. Come on, I have something I want to show you. I promise I’ll keep you nice and close to me.” _

_ Anora’s blue eyes glanced up from their connected hands to catch Elissa’s green ones. That slight grin still playing on the corners of her lips. Finally Anora gave a small nod, “Fine, but only for an hour or two, Elissa. I actually want to sleep tonight.” _

_ Both wearing large and warm hooded cloaks, Elissa lead the way through the Palace. Holding on tight to Anora’s hand, the blonde was quite surprised to see how easy it was to actually sneak out of the Palace and into one of the many side streets.  _

_ True to her word Elissa made it a point to keep Anora as close to her as possible. Trying to ignore the thought of how it would feel to be pressed against the taller girl’s body, the journey to the docks was filled with Anora trying her best to control the raging hormones moving through her.   _

_ The storms had driven any would be late nighters that hung around the docks inside for the evening, leaving the streets nearly empty for the two girls. Picking a spot right against a wall of an inn that offered them perfect view outwards over the rest of the port and to sea, Elissa drew Anora right to her chest, giggling slightly at the sound Anora made.  _

_ Here they could see and hear the lightning strikes better. The purple and white color arching and mirroring over the dark water. It became a game between the two, counting and waiting in between every strike to see where the next one came.  _

_ Neither seemed to care that they were slowly getting soaked from the amount of rain. Finally Anora felt Elissa’s hand move up to slowly edge off their hoods. Allowing their heads now to be soaked by the rain.  _

_ Anora was about to smack Elissa for removing the hood but was stopped when she felt Elissa’s slightly wet hand gently take her pale cheek. There was another strike that seemed to be larger than the others. Lighting up the night sky and echoing off the buildings of the capital.  _

_ Anora’s breath had hitched when she felt Elissa’s other hand gently grip her hip and pressed their fronts together. Even through their layers Anora could feel how their bodies and height difference was just right for each other.  _

_ “Wha..what was it you wanted to show me?” Anora’s voice was no higher than a whisper while her arms moved up to circle around Elissa’s neck.  _

_ There was that half smile again that was slowly going to drive Anora mad, “This.” _

_ As soon as the word had left Elissa’s lips, the taller girl slowly moved in and dipped her head down to close the distance. Softly pressing their lips together in nothing more than a brushing of wet lips, Anora’s fingers weaved through Elissa’s hair. It felt as silky as Anora thought it would. _

_ Elissa broke the kiss only a few passing seconds later, moving her head back slightly as if to silently ask if this was okay. _

_ “That was my first kiss.” Anora answered softly, their foreheads being pressed together.  _

_ “I am sorry if that was rushed. I knew this was a bad idea but you just have this way of looking at me and then ever…” Whatever else Elissa was going to ramble out was cut off by Anora leaning over and pressing their lips together again in a much longer kiss. _

* * *

 

Anora smiled through her dried tears at the memory. The butterfly feeling entering her stomach as her heart beat all that little faster. Elissa. 

Just the woman’s name could bring a thousand of different memories to the Queen’s head. Elissa, who had lost her parents, lost so much in this past year due to fate. 

Anora had to be strong, she had to be strong for Elissa, for herself and above all else, for the Kingdom. Anora knew that Elissa would never ask her to give up the Crown, Elissa had never doubted that Queendom was Anora’s role in life. No matter how much Anora secretly wished Elissa would ask her to give it up so the two could travel with eachother. 

But reason, but duty, must win over personal wants. Anora was born for a singular purpose. To  _ rule _ . 

Anora could feel her strength returning. Moving up to her knees, her left hand went to grab the gold crown while the other held the rose. Getting up to her feet, she placed the crown back onto the pillow. 

She wanted to believe there was a part of her Father from before deep down inside of him. The reality told her otherwise. She loved him with all her being, but the man that raised her was gone and never coming back no matter how hard she tried to bring it. She would remember him as what he was, not what he became. 

She twirled the rose under her nose for a few passing more seconds before placing the rose across the crown. Anora wasn’t dead yet and as she had strength left in her, she wouldn’t abandon her people, not again.

* * *

After Duran had left her to her thoughts, Elissa found her wandering the empty halls of Eamon’s estate. It was well past midnight leaving the entire estate to be filled with silence. 

Her heart told her to simply head to Anora’s rooms and try to explain everything that had happened. But her head told her to leave the Queen alone. 

She exit through the back to the garden she and Anora was earlier that day. Sat along the plants and trees on a stone bench was Alistair. His hands folded into his lap and legs outstretched in front of him, his stare was upwards to the large full moon. 

A part of Elissa wanted to simply turn and run. With her thoughts leading her to spare Loghain, she felt the largest bit of shame seeing her fellow Warden. 

But before Elissa could make her escape, Alistair’s stare moved from the sky and to where Elissa stood in the walkway, “Couldn’t sleep either?”

“I can never sleep.” The words finally formed on Elissa’s lips. Giving a soft sigh, the Warden moved forward and took a seat down on the bench next to Alistar. 

“The nightmares never get easier. I wonder if they only get worse the longer a Blight goes on.” 

“I think i would rather take nightmares of the Blight than my other ones.” Elissa said softly, placing her elbows on her knees and leaning forward slightly. 

She missed the look that Alistar sent her, but did feel his hand giving her a soft pat on her back, “I had a dream of Ostagar again. It was different this time, I was on the front lines fighting, I saw the look in Cailan eyes when he saw the signal fire go up and Loghain never coming.”

Elissa shut her eyes slightly, her own words coming back to her,  _ ‘No man deserves to die like that.’ _

“You know what we found in Cailan’s chest, Alistair. What if Loghain knew what he planned to do?”

“Does that change the fact of what he did, Elissa? What if you found papers saying that your Father planned to sell out to the Orlesians and Howe’s killing was out of nationalist duty.” The venom dripped from the man’s voice before he could realize just what he was saying.

A lesser person would of turned around and smacked the man in his face but Elissa only shut her eyes. In the back of her mind she could almost hear the sound of Howe’s bones breaking from under her abuse. 

“I butchered Howe, Alistair. By the Maker, I butchered him. There was nothing left of him. Is that what you want, Alistair? To break Loghain in front of the entire Kingdom? To see the life leave his eyes as if that would bring back Duncan? The other Wardens? The thousands who died? It won’t.”

“It’ll make me feel better, Elissa.” Alistair's voice had lost it’s venom and was simply sounded tired now.

“It won’t, Alistair. It will only make the pain all new.”

“What I am supposed to do, simply let it all go, Elissa? Forget what he did, everything he caused? What he did to you, to me, to this entire Kingdom? You said it before that he will have to pay. Someone has to pay for what happened. He, directly, caused so much evil, Elissa! The choice is easy.”

“The worst horrors are the ones we inflict on ourselves.” 

The man next to her gave a deep sigh and fell into silence. Peeking with one eye she could see Alistair staring down at the ground, hands curled around his knees, “I hope, Elissa, that you make the right decision.”

“As do I.”

* * *

 

Anora drummed her fingers against the arm of her chair. The gathered Lords and Ladies of Highever gathered once more around Arl Eamon’s dining room.

The Queen wondered to herself if Eamon was growing annoyed with his manor being overran with nearly every House of the Kingdom. Though knowing the man he most likely enjoyed the attention. 

Sitting at the head of the table, Anora drowned out the idle chatter as they waited for Elissa to join them. Ser Decker standing not that far off from her, the man becoming less of a knight and more a trusted adviser with each passing day. 

He wouldn’t be a bad choice for a Lord Chancellor. He had been the Guard Colonel for a long time, knew the games to play at Court. And he was honest, he spoke plainly to her. It was traits that Anora needed the most right now. 

Anora was pulled from her thoughts when the doors to the dining room were opened and Elissa stalked in. Dressed in a long dark leather coat, her sword belt wrapped tight around her waist and auburn locks flowing freely, Anora allowed herself this small moment to watch her lover from afar. 

They had not spoken yet about what happened in the Alienage. The distance between the pair luckily not being noticed by the gathered nobles. Elissa offered a tight smile to Anora and a bow of her upper body before taking the seat to Anora’s right. 

“Let us begin then,” Anora spoke, “Warden Elissa, I believe it would be a wiser choice to present yourself along the Houses of Highever. Less as your standing as the Grey Warden Commander and more to your birthright as Teyrna.” 

“I agree with the Queen on this, Your Grace,”  Alfstanna spoke next, nodding her head in agreement from her spot on the table, “No matter the rumors coming out of Highever..”

“And what are the newest rumors coming out of Highever?” Elissa’s voice cut through Alfstanna’s speech, her green eyes landing on the Bann. 

The table glanced in between each other, mumbling along themselves. But it was Lady Mac Ritcher who stood to speak, “I received a raven from my husband this morning. An army marches on Highever commanded by various Houses of the Teyrnir to bring Thomas Howe to heel. I believe more than a few fathers, mothers, sons and daughters currently ride under that banner.”

“Under whose authority?” Anora asked from her seat. 

“Supposedly, Teyrn Fergus of House Cousland,” The aged Lady produced the small scroll from her dress, presenting it out to the members, “My husband wrote this to me in secret, fearing that their plans for Howe could be found out. They aim to attack soon. If I was to guess, it could be happening now or is already over.” 

“If there is a chance my Brother yet lives and is claiming his birthright, I will not claim Highever for my own.” Elissa rested her hands palm down onto the table, speaking out over the Lords and Ladies. 

“Let us say, Your Grace, that he is alive. But he has failed to retake Highever, you are the next in line. Fergus is too far away to do anything here in the Landsmeet. These are only rumors…”

“Do you doubt the word of my Lord husband, Bann Franderel?” Lady Mac Ritcher’s voice spoke over the Banns. 

“That is not what I am claiming…”

“It sure sounds like that.” 

Before long the table had fallen into chaos. Anora watched the scene in silence, catching Elissa’s eyes who had turned away from the bickering nobles. Only years of schooling her emotion kept Anora from jumping out of her skin at the feel of Elissa’s hand going to rest on her knee from underneath the table. 

Anora knew that Elissa was holding back behind an emotionless mask. She could only imagine the emotions that had to be rushing through Elissa’s head. A frown appearing on Anora’s lips, turning her head away from Elissa, “Silence.”

The bickering heads turned in Anora’s direction, falling silent to allow the Queen to speak, “I believe Fergus Cousland to be alive. But Bann Franderel is correct, there is nothing we can do for him and nothing he can do for us at the current moment. Warden Elissa does not need to claim Highever while her Brother could still yet live, but it does not weaken the fact that she is a Cousland and has the might of Highever standing behind her.”

“When the Houses of Highever present themselves before the Landsmeet, Elissa will be standing along you. In official terms, if Fergus does in fact live, acting as her brother’s second. If he doesn’t, it is the first step in her claiming her birthright. Something that will please both parties, yes?” Anora’s eyes scanned up and down the table, earning a series of nodes and “Ayes”

“Very well. No doubt at this point you have heard of the battle that took place in the Alienage yesterday.” Anora tried her hardest to keep the dread from leaking into her tone, keeping it calm and even like she was known for. 

But the only thing that kept it was Elissa’s hand giving her knee a tight squeeze from underneath the table. Drawing from her Warden’s silent strength, Anora carried on, “The rumors are true. Lord Howe and my Father allowed Slavers to come into the Capital to sell anyone they could get their hands on to the fund the Civil War. There is a pile of written decrees each bearing his seal.” 

That earned the complete silence of the room and it’s full attention onto the Queen. 

“These...these crimes against humanity will not stand. He may be my father and I his daughter, but he will stand for his crimes.” Anora finished softly, the rest of her prepared speech fading to black around her as she said the words. 

“We have no doubt, Your Majesty, you and the Warden will do what is equal and justice.” Lady Mac Richter replied softly. 

After the truth of the slave trade being present in the Kingdom was addressed, the meeting was quickly ended. Anora had no doubt the proven news would spread like wildfire through the travens. 

The words still stung on Anora’s tongue. No matter how much evil Loghain had done to her and her people, Anora could not shake the feeling she was betraying the man who had raised her. 

The Queen had yet to get up from her chair neither did Elissa, leaving the two women with only Ser Decker standing a few mere feet away. 

“Ser Decker, a moment alone please.” Anora ordered, looking up at the aged man. 

The near white haired man gave a stiff nod and marched forward through the dining room to where the doors laid open. Stepping into the outside hallway and closing the door behind him, the two women were alone. 

“Did you mean that?” Elissa asked as the doors were shut. 

“Did I mean what?”

“That you will put your Father onto trial.” 

“Assuming he lives through the Landsmeet and then the Blight, yes. But I doubt at this point the former will happen.”

Anora watched as Elissa’s head moved to the side so the two women were facing each other. The blonde could tell her lover wished to say something, hovering just on the edge of her tongue. 

If the Queen was in a different mood she might of pushed for it but instead only sighed.

“The Grand Cleric Elemena wishes to speak to us before the Landsmeet.” Anora said to break the silence that had fallen between the pair. 

“Us?”

“You are  _ the Warden _ . You do know they’re calling you the Shadeslayer now in the streets?” Anora allowed a small amused smile to come forth, watching the side of Elissa’s face. 

“We need to talk, Anora. About all of this.” Elissa ignored Anora’s smile and shifted closer out of her seat, hand squeezing Anora’s knee. 

“I think the matter is clear, Elissa. I know what I asked you before and truthfully, my heart still longs for it. But how does a man recover his honor after that? How could I allow for such a thing to happen?” The last word was whispered from Arnoa’s lips, the telltale signs of tears threatening to spill. 

Knowing that a fair portion of their allies were just on the other side of the door, Elissa stood from her chair and came into Anora’s space. Wrapping her arms around the Queen and pulling her head down to rest on her shoulder. 

Anora’s face burrowed itself into the side of Elissa’s neck, hands clawing at the front of the her body, “How did I not see it? Why didn’t I see it? Why wasn’t I strong enough to stand up to him? So many suffered because of him. You, Elissa, suffered because of him.  _ You _ , the…” 

Anora’s voice trailed off as the tears were freed from her eyes, crying into Elissa’s neck as she tried to hug herself closer to the Warden. A few tears blurred Elissa’s own vision but the Warden was tired of crying. 

It felt all she had done in this past year is cry and kill. 

Elissa blinked past her own tears and simply hugged Anora to her, pressing a kiss to the top of Anora’s blonde head. Her hand running up and down the curve of her back. 

Anora knew they couldn’t hold this for too long. Rubbing her cheeks up against Elissa’s chest to dry them. Pulling away from Elissa, she placed a lingering kiss to Elissa’s chin and was rewarded with one to her nose. 

Their faces hoovered a few inches apart. The sweet smell of Elissa’s breath running over Anora’s face with each breath the Warden took. 

“There is something I must do before we leave for the Chantry, I’ll find you when I’m done.” Elissa whispered out, leaning over to press a short kiss to Anora’s lips. 

It left the Queen longing for more, longing for a time and place where she wasn’t the Queen and Elissa wasn’t  _ the Warden _ . The blonde nodded her eyes, eyes still shut to enough the fleeting moments of tasting Elissa on her lips, “I will need to freshen up anyways.”

Elissa pressed one last kiss to the tip of Anora’s nose and was out of the door before Anora could stand from her own seat.

* * *

 

It wasn’t hard to find Riordan. The Grey Warden was along those standing around in Eamon’s courtyard. A few knights sparred each other, men-at-arms trained under the watchful eye of their sergeant.

The greying Warden turned and offered Elissa a tight smile, “Sister.”

Elissa ignored him for a moment, going to stand next to him and cup her hands behind her back. Eyes looking out over the training men to gather her thoughts. 

“Something on your mind, Sister?” Riordan asked to break the silence. 

“You said before Archdemon blood is needed for the Joining. And the stores here are behind a large vault door but you also said that you were given a short supply before you crossed the border.” Elissa turned her head to meet Riordan’s eyes. 

The man gave a short nod, “You are paying close to attention. I do have a small supply, even smaller than it was before that I left. The Wardens feared that the Ferelden supply fell into the hands of Loghain and with Grey Wardens needed to fight the Blight and the Archdemon, we were going to need more. So they allowed me a few vials.”

Elissa ignored her flash of anger to ask why the Wardens had only sent  _ him _ and not an army of them. Taking a few moments to allow that anger to calm, Elissa spoke again, “And how much do you have left?”

“Enough for one Joining, maybe two.” Riordan studied Elissa, his eyes not leaving Elissa’s face. 

“And what do you think of Loghain?” Elissa said calmly, keeping emotion from dipping into her tone. Flat and leveled to not give away her thoughts. 

“We Grey Wardens do not have the pleasure of being politically correct during Blights. The power of conscription can be used on the lowest gutter rat. Or the highest Lord.” Riordan turned his eyes from Elissa and looked back out over the courtyard. 

“And you would fight next to him?”

“He once defeated the might of the Orlesian Empire. You will find few like him along the ranks of the Grey Wardens. It would keep his supporters from rioting if you were to take his life. The Joining could take his life but at least it would be more honorable to facing your sword. It’s an...option,” Riordan glanced from the courtyard and back to Elissa, “Though I know not how your fellow Warden and allies would take it.”

Elissa rolled her shoulders, her mind going to Alistair and their conversation last night. 

“It is the burden of leadership, Sister. It is the burden every Warden carries with themselves during times of Blight. We, you, must act and think beyond your own want or feelings. What you do here will be felt for the next coming Ages. Our sworn duty is to end the Blight for there is no greater evil than the Darkspawn. Sometimes, for the greater good, evil most occur to defeat the greater.” Riordan offered her a nod and attempted to give Elissa a forced smile. 

Elissa stayed silent, Riordan’s words echoing through her head. Memories flashing of Soldier’s Keep and the blood mage that still lives within its halls. For the greater good, wasn’t it?

“Keep this conversation to yourself, Riordan. On the morning of the Landsmeet, keep those vials close to you.” 

“Of course, Sister. I shall.”

* * *

 

The Chapel of the Holy Bride Andraste was nothing like the Grand Cathedral in Val Royeaux. Large, yes, but simple and modest in its design. More akin to the true teachings of Andraste and fitted Ferelden as a whole.

There was no large grand carvings made of gold lining each wall. No marble walkways that went on and on, twisting into different hallways. It was made of stone and wood, built in ages past. Modest as was the rest of the Kingdom compared to the golden city of Val Royeaux.

Anora spared a glance to Elissa. Her Warden quiet as she looked over the halls as they were lead by a Sister to the Grand Cleric. A dark fur lined coat rested over her shoulders, contrasting her auburn curls. Hand resting on Starfang’s hilt as they walked down the hallway. 

Anora mimicked the dark clothing. Wearing a dark navy blue dress with a silver chain running from shoulder to hip to hold the black half cape in place. Blonde hair done into a single tight bun with the gold crown planted upon her head. 

Twin Templars stood on either side of a set of double oak doors. Snapping to attention as the Sister lead the Queen and Warden before the Grand Cleric. If Elissa didn’t know better she would think the Templars seemed oddly jumpy. 

Even the Sister who lead them had not said a word since they had arrived. Granted the Landsmeet and Blight hungover them but such grimness wasn’t usually seen by the members of the Chantry. 

Elissa quickly found the answer for the jumpiness. While the Grand Cleric sat behind her large oak desk like a Queen in her throne, a figure clad in black armor stood just to the left of Elemena. 

With pure black curly hair and a full stubble, the Seeker casted an imposing silent figure next to the brightly dressed Grand Cleric.  Elissa couldn’t remember the last time she had seen a Seeker. 

The Grand Cleric rose from her seat, giving a small bow to Anora, “Your Majesty, Lady Cousland, welcome.”

If the Queen was bothered by the tall imposing Seeker, she did not let it show. Ignoring the man and offering the Cleric a smile, “Elemena, it is always good to see you.” 

“Likewise, Your Majesty. May I introduce Seeker Hadrian Trevelyan.” Elemena motioned to the man standing next to her. 

The Seeker’s ice blue eyes looked in between Elissa and Anora once before giving a short bow of his head, “Your Majesty, Warden.”

Anora’s court smile came to her lips, taking one of the seats in front of Elemena’s desk while Elissa stayed standing to Anora’s left so she was only a few feet away from the standing Seeker, “And what brings a Seeker to the capital?”

“Chantry business.” The man’s dry voice remarked. 

When they were young, Anora had always voiced her fears about the Seekers. That if her and Elissa’s relationship was ever found out that the Divine would personally send Seekers to arrest them for blasphemy. 

Granted there was no actual verse that outlawed same sex relationships in the Chant of Light, Anora still feared them all the same. 

“I must thank you for meeting with me so quickly, Your Majesty. With this Landsmeet before us, I understand you are quite busy.” Elemena took her seat behind the desk once more and folded her hands ontop of it, smiling at Anora. 

“It is the Chantry and the Crown that holds up every Kingdom in Thedas. What type of Queen would I be if I did not make time for the Grand Cleric of Ferelden?” Anora leaned back into the chair and moved the leather gloves off her hands. 

“I am glad to hear that you still think of the Chantry so highly. I have missed our chats.” Elemena’s smile turned more warm. 

Elissa knew better, the smile was too sharp on the sides of Elemena’s lips. 

“As have I, Elemena. Though I assume you didn’t call me here to speak of better times.” 

The smile slowly faded from Elemena’s face, glancing up to the Seeker and then back to the Queen, “There are rumors that a Templar was found by the Lady Cousland when she attacked Howe’s estate.”

Before Elissa could open her mouth to speak, Seeker Hadrian’s dry voice spoke once more, “Irminric Eremon was given command of a group of Templars to hunt down and return a dangerous Apostate here to the Capital to face the Chantry’s justice. The last message from him was some time ago where he wrote that they had successfully captured the mage and was bringing him to Denerim. He never arrived, his band of Templars were found killed and the maleficarum never found.” 

Anora sent a glance Elissa’s way, allowing the Warden to explain. 

Elissa’s eyes were set forward, keeping the Seeker’s icy blue eyes, “I did find him. Withdrawing from lyrium. He was captured by the Loghain and Howe’s men. The maleficarum, Jowan, was sent to Redcliffe to ‘tutor’ Arl Eamon’s son who was showing magical abilities. While in reality, he was sent to kill Eamon and nearly did so. Arl Eamon’s son, Conor, made a pact with a demon to save his Father. But I am sure you know how well pacts with demons go.” 

The Seeker and Grand Cleric shared a look, perhaps thrown off by Elissa’s blunt honesty. 

“So First Enchanter Irving spoke the truth about him aiding you?” The Seeker questioned. 

“Correct, Seeker. I wrote to Irving who made all haste to Redcliffe. Doing a ritual, we sent Jowan into the Fade to face the demon. The demon was slain and we threw Jowan back into the dungeons.” Elissa counited on. 

“And afterwards, When Jowan is back into a cell, how did you cure Arl Eamon? There are outrage…” 

The Grand Cleric was cut off by a short and blunt, “Yes.” 

It was the Seeker’s turn to raise a brow at the Warden, “You’re saying...”

“Yes. I found it. I found the Urn of Sacred Ashes. The city of Haven in the Frostbacks hid the way forward. Guarded by this Cult that worshiped a High Dragon as Andraste reborn.” Elissa said simply, Anora looking on at the Grand Cleric. 

Elemena sent a look Anora’s way, how the Queen looked so unaffected by the news and simply looking on at the two Chantry officials.

“You do realize, Lady Cousland, how outra…”

“Such events will have to be looked into before any opinion from the Chantry can be given.” The Seeker spoke over the Cleric, earning a swift and harsh glare from Elemena. 

“Do you think I am lying, Seeker?” Elissa tilted her head, hand still resting on her sword hilt idely. 

“You’re saying you found the Urn of Sacred Ashes, Warden. You touched them, carried a pinch to Redcliffe and cured Eamon. Some might go as far to call you an Anointed if this is proven true. Personally, and as I shall tell the Lord Seeker, not even a team of skilled Spirit Healers would’ve been able to heal Eamon that quickly.” Hadrian said with the same emotionless look on his face. 

“I will prove the Chantry with maps, the way forward, the locations. And Ferdinand Genitivi can swear by it all.” Elissa replied, eyes not leaving the Seeker. 

“It matters not if the Blight claims all of us.” Elemena looked as if she had been sucking hard on a lemon, the frown tight and full on her lips. 

“Naturally,” Anora was snapped from her private thoughts where one eye had lingered on the side of Elissa’s face, “I am well sure that news of what happened in the Alienage reached your ears.”

“There is also the issue of these blood mages being kept in Fort Drakon and not under the control of Templars.” The Seeker spoke up once more.

“They have information vital to the Landsmeet.” Anora’s head finally turned to speak directly to the Seeker. 

“You do not understand the power a maleficarum has, Your Majesty. They should be under Chantry’s charge.” 

The air in the room was quickly sucked out by the Seeker’s dry voice. His icy blue eyes bearing down on the Queen from his side next to the Grand Cleric. 

“After the Landsmeet is over and the Crown has the information it needs from them, the Chantry can do as they wish with them.” Anora didn’t back down from the Seeker’s stare. 

“And if they break free in the pits of Fort Drakon?”

“I have full faith in the skill of the City Guards.”

The Seeker’s response was a dry snort. 

Elemena’s head turned away from studying Elissa and the Seeker. Looking back to Anora, that frown softening while a somber look came onto her face, “I have faith that the Crown are taking the steps needed to null their powers. Unfortunately, Your Majesty. What your Father did…”

A shadow passed over Anora, her head dipping down from Elemena’s eyes, “It’s hard for a daughter to admit that her Father has done wrong. But he has. What is the Chantry stance on this?”

Elemena licked her lips, Elissa glancing up to see the smallest of smirks on the corners of the Cleric’s lips before it disappeared, “There are rumors that he was under the control of blood magic. These heretical Tevinters.”

“I..I have heard the same, Your Grace. But he matters not. That is the hard truth of it all. He ordered it all to happen. He left King Cailan to die at Ostagar. There’s too many treasons to count.”

“But, Your Majesty, if it was under the control of one of these heathens the entire time, they would be blamed for his actions.” Elemena spoke softly, hands clasped in front of her. 

Elissa’s eyes narrowed from her spot. The air in the room becoming tense at Elemena’s words. She caught the Seeker studying the Grand Cleric closely too while Anora held the same emotionless mask she was known for. 

“A confession from the leader of these mages would prove to the Chantry of the Lord Regent’s innocence. Any crimes that he committed while under their spell washed away by the Marker’s Light.”

“The Divine has voiced for the Teyrn to be brought to her for questioning if it proves to be true that he was under the influence of Blood Mages.” The Grand Cleric added as an afternote. 

Silence now hung openly over the room. Anora not answering right away but instead shifted in her seat to sit up straighter, “Can I count on the Chantry’s voice behind me during the Landsmeet?”

“Of course, Anora. This...Alistair, this supposed bastard that Eamon wants to pop up knows not how to run a Kingdom. You have the blood of the Hero of the River Dane running through you, no one forgets that.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seeker Maxwell Hadrian Trevelyan is the hero of another tale.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one has a bit of real porn in it.

The walk back to the courtyard was quiet. The two women walking in silence until they reached where they had left Ser Decker and the collection of guards. 

“I supposed I knew that was coming. Elemena was always a supporter of Maric and my Father. Never questioned them.” Anora mumbled out loud enough for only Elissa to hear. The pair moved out of the courtyard of the Chantry and heading back through the roads that would lead them to Eamon’s estate. 

“You have the blood of the Hero of the River Dane running through you, no one forgets that.” Elissa replied dryly. 

“She always loved her vague double meaning phrases.” Anora snorted, eyes wandering to the various stalls in the market quarter. 

The 10 or so City Guardsmen lingered behind them with a few heading out in front to clear the way for the Queen. Ser Decker stood closer to the pair but allowing the two women the same privacy. 

Children ran back and forth while shoppers in the market stopped to stare at the Queen and Warden. There was a few who yelled, “Long Live the Queen!” and others that screamed, “Death to the Mac Tirs!”

Anora tried her best to ignore it, most people went along with their business as best they could. The market was filled with visiting nobles, the Landsmeet always brought good business. The shadow of the Blight being able to be forgotten for a few moments by the common people. 

A small girl came running up from the sides and up to Elisas. Clasping a blue flower in her small hand, Anora watched as Elissa crouched down to become level with the small girl. 

“Is that for me?” Elissa asked in a soft voice, a gentle smile on her features.

The little girl nodded her head, moving her hands forward to place the flower into Elissa’s gloved hand, “For you.”

The Queen watched from a few feet away, hands clasping in front of her body. Ser Decker approached the Queen’s side, whispering in a low voice, “We shouldn’t linger in the open, Your Majesty.”

“I can’t be the one that pulls the hero from her many admirers.” Anora said dryly, tipping her head in Elissa’s direction. 

The Warden now had a small group of people trying to speak to her. A few shouting, “Shadeslayer!” over the crowd. 

Anora glanced away from Elissa, allowing the woman her moment as the Queen looked over the stalls filled to the brim with silks and jewels. 

Perhaps this Landsmeet was doing some good, if they were going to survive after this Blight, commerce and trade had to flow equally to rebuild Ferelden. 

With Decker next to her, Anora walked the short distance to the nearest stall. A well dress balding middle age man attended it. A caged bear behind him, with the stalls holding different types of silks from Antiva and Rivian. 

“Your Majesty,” The trader gave a deep bow of his upper body, waving his arms out to the sides, “I am breathless to see the Queen herself grace my stalls.”

The man had a heavy Antivan accent. Anora attempted to give the trader a soft smile, “You’re a far away from Antiva. What is your name?”

The trader stood back up to his full height, hands tucking behind his back, A pair of dark amber eyes studied Anora, “Most call me Master Ignacio.”

Anora arched a brow at that, fingers rubbing a bit of green silk in between her fingers. The green having reminded her of the shade of Elissa’s eyes, “Master? A curious name for a trader.”

“I have been called many things in my life, Your Majesty.” The trader walked on his side of the tables as the Queen did, hands still tucked behind his back. 

Decker’s eyes narrowed at the trader. While Anora were focused on looking at the wares, the knight’s stare had not left this  _ trader _ . There was something about his eyes that Decker distrusted. 

Decker wouldn’t lie and say that he even liked Antivans, but this trader was making Decker’s hairs stand up on the back of his head. And it wasn’t helped by this Ignacio hiding his hands from his view. 

“And what other things have you been called?” Anora questioned as she placed the bundle of silk back down onto the table. 

“Such names are improper for the ears of a Queen.” Ignacio spoke with a gentle smile. 

“And what brings you this far from Antiva? I have always wanted to visit.” Anora stopped again, fingers tracing over a bundle of dark blue silk, something more her color. 

Ignacio stopped to, eyes lifting up to catch Decker’s unflinching glare and Elissa in the far background, “There are many of interested parties in Antiva that are watching this Landsmeet closely.”

“And which parties are those, Master Ignacio?” Anora looked up from the silk, raising a gold brow. 

“The 8 hooded men that are currently walking their way through the crowd to attempt to kill you and the Warden.” Ignacio said with a nod of his head in the direction of behind the pair. 

The ringing of steel echoed through the market as two of the City Guard escort dropped dead from arrows to their throat. 

“Protect the Queen!” Decker’s voice roared out, drawing the longsword from his hip and pulling Anora away from Ignacio.

The trader himself just stood behind his stalls with his hands clasped behind his back, watching the scene unfold carefully. 

The surviving 8 guardsmen surrounded Decker and the Queen. Linking their gold colored shields together and forming a half circle. 

Elissa herself was separated from the rest. Standing alone with Starfang already drawn from her hip. She was already backtracking to where the half circle of guards stood, her front facing to the 8 approaching assassins. 

Seeing the red and black sigil on the breasts of their armor, Elissa cursed loudly to herself, “Bloody Crows.”

Before Elissa could move or even think, a flask came flying out from one of the Crows’s hands, hitting the front wall of guards behind her. The glass breaking and a firestorm erupting, setting three guards alight. 

The screams of the burning guardsmen echoed through the square. Traders, nobles, and commoners alike causing a panic to get away from the fight. The market was too well packed that afternoon, meaning that the other guards present else well had to move against the screaming crowds. 

Decker pulled Anora back from the firestorm, “Flee! Run! To the Noble Quarter!”

As Decker turned to flee with the Queen, the color drained from both their faces at the sight of another 4 hooded men approaching from the street, opposite to the direction of the running crowds. 

Holding Anora behind him, Decker kept his armored form in front of the Queen, licking his suddenly dry lips. Decker was a veteran of Maric’s Rebellion and years of street fighting but a shiver of fear ran up his spine. 

The Crows had picked their avenue of attack well, a part of him wondering how they knew they would be cross through the Market. With so many people in the Capital and out at the Market, any help would have to move through the crowds. 

Strands of auburn hair fell out of Elissa’s braid, her head turning over her shoulder to see that they were now boxed in. The few surviving Guardsmen looking close to throwing down their own weapons and fleeing before they were killed by the Crows. 

The smell and screams of the burning men hit her senses like a wave, the crowds that had gathered running in whichever direction they could find. She could hear guards attempting to get to them but they had to run through waves of citizens to get to them. 

The Crows had played their hand much better than the first time they had tried to take her life. 

Elissa knew what she had to do. Buy them time. 

Stepping off onto her right foot, the Warden surged forward, glad that she was wearing at least a boiled leather long coat to give her some level of protection if it came to it. 

Four Crows met the Warden half way, the other four in front of her slowly walking behind the first four. The first was the most unlucky one, meeting his end when Starfang’s blade smashed down to cleave through the Crow’s cheekbones. 

Twisting and pulling the blade, Elissa side stepped just in time to miss the shafting of a spear head into the side of her ribs. The blade instead slashing across her side, cutting through the boiled leather. 

Decker pulled the dagger from his belt and moved it behind his back to Anora, “For you.”

Stepping away from Anora, the four surviving Guardsmen surrounded the Queen. Two facing in the direction of Decker and two facing in the direction of Elissa, unsure if they should be protecting the Queen or helping them fight. 

Dropping the blade into his left hand, the heavily armored Decker marched forward as the four Crows charged forward. Two going for the aged knight and the other two skirting around him to go for the Queen. 

Half-swording was always an odd fighting style to watch. Decker caught the Crow’s axe head on the space of blade in between his hands. Twisting his body to his right, the Crow was forced off balance by the surprising amount of strength Decker held. Before the knight pulled his arms back and then upwards into the unprotected neck of the Crow, a spray of crimson covering the front of his armor. 

A mace head slammed into Decker’s left pauldron. Tears buried Decker’s vision, the aged man stumbling to the side from the force of the blow. Sharp hot pain ran up and down his left arm. Going all the way down to the tips of his fingers to the side of his neck. 

The Crow sent Decker’s longsword flying out of his right hand, disarming the man as he still tried to get back onto his feet. Before the Crow could smash his mace down into Decker’s skull, the knight launched himself off the back of his heels. 

Dive tackling the Crow who attempted to swing the mace down to catch Decker, the Crow ended up on his back with Decker above him. The mace thrown out of the Crow’s hand from the force of Decker’s armored form ramming into him. 

Decker used the advantage to slam his left forearm down into the Crow’s throat and started quick jabbing his leather gloved hand into the Crow’s face. The sound of the Crow’s nose breaking echoed followed up quickly with the wet sound of fist hitting flesh blood. 

Grabbing a dagger from the Crow’s belt, Decker stabbed deep right through the center of the Crow’s right eye, twisting it and leaving it buried into his skull. 

He was getting far too old for street brawls. 

The two guards that faced behind Decker charged forward to meet the Crows that had came forth. One of the guards rammed his heater shield hard into the side of one Crow, forcing the Antivan off balance, stepping back out of the guard’s sword slash. 

Anora’s other protector was not as lucky. The guard attempting to just step forward and run through the Crow on the tip of her spear. Instead it was a well executed faint by the Crow, forcing the guard to stab across her body while the Crow sidestepped back onto the guard’s now unprotected side. 

Stabbing with his twin daggers up underneath the guard’s armpit, it cleaved through the woman’s skin and into her heart. Twisting his twin daggers out, the Crow now advanced onto the Queen while the other guard and Decker were busy. 

Just a short distance away, Elissa attempted to fight three Crows at once. Starfang a blur of blue, the only thing keeping her alive was the year long experience of fighting head on and the Berserker training. 

While Elissa kept the three busy, the other four were now approaching the two lone guards that had stepped forward to assist Elissa, in doing so leaving Anora unprotected. 

Over the chaos she could hear the sound of soldier’s footsteps hitting the ground. Twisting her head, just over the other side of the Market it looked like a small army of white cloaked Guardsmen were rushing towards them. 

Rebounding a spear stab off to her right, Elissa brought Starfang angling back up to parry a sword’s blade. Riposting off the Crow’s blade, Starfang stabbed forward into the assassin's chest. Caught off guard, Elissa threw her weight forward and kept her sword buried hilt into his chest, pushing forward to break the encirclement they had her in. 

With everyone else locked in fierce street combat, Anora stood alone in her dress, clenching the hilt of Decker’s dagger in her hand. A look of terror on her face as the Crow in front of her killed the guard and slowly approached to her. 

“Lord Howe send his regards from the beyond, Your Majesty.” The man spoke in a heavy Antivan accent, the ego dripping from his tongue as he placed one dagger back onto his hip and stabbed forward. 

But Anora was the daughter of Loghain Mac Tir. She was many things, and the first one was a fighter. The false look of terror dropped from her face, gritted her teeth as she attempted to sidestepped, allowing the assassin's dagger to slice across the smooth skin of her ribs as she drove her own dagger hilt deep into the underside of the Crow’s chin. 

By now the platoon of guards had come to their rescue. A mass of gold armor armor and white cloaks surrounding the Queen as they pulled Anora to safety, the dead Crow dropping into the street in front of her feet. 

Decker swung his sword in a wide arc, hitting the back of the neck of a retreating Crow. Though it didn’t kill the man due to the helm he wore, it knocked him off his feet, “Capture the ones that still live!”

It wasn’t until the surviving Crows had been disarmed and thrown in irons that Elissa felt the pain from her wounds. Sliced a number of times, her left gloved hand had nearly been stained red from where it was pressed to the side of her body. 

Anora had been taken off as soon as the platoon had entered the fight, at this point already back at Eamon’s estate if Elissa could bet. 

But what caught her attention was Decker marching across the market to where a lone trader still stood, having watched the entire fight from behind his stalls. Peeking her interest, Elissa pressed her hand back to the worst slash wound and went to meet Decker at the stall. 

Overturning one of the tables, Decker lunged after Ignacio, “You fucking Crow!”

The trader was grabbed and forced to his knees. Not resisting the Queen’s protector, “I wish to speak to the Warden.”

“You daft little fucking Antivan…”

“I am interested to hear what he has to say.” Elissa commented, her voice strained from the fighting and knew she needed to see Wynne fast incase any of those edges has poison on them. 

Decker and Ignacio’s heads snapped in Elissa’s direction, having not heard or seen her approach. 

“There are many more of them in the Capital, Warden. I believe our mutual friend, Zevran, still travels with you, yes?” Ignaco asked up to the Warden, ignoring Decker’s hand around his throat. 

“Correct.”

“This business about the contract on your and the Queen’s life is unfortunate but the House of Crows have never refused a contract. That does not mean the House of Crows wishes you or the Queen any ill will.”

“So sending assassins after them is just the Antivan way of saying hello?” Decker snorted. 

“The House of Crows are interested in supporting a Queen Anora regin but we can not break the contract that has already been drawn. I have information that you need, Warden and you are what we need.”

Elissa clenched her a jaw, a flash of pain coming from her wound, she was going to have to cut this short, “Fine. Take him alive Decker and to Eamon’s estate. Find Zevran.”

“Warden…”

“Do it.”

* * *

 

“A standard poison for us Crows, you’re lucky you have a handy Crow yourself.” Zevran teased from Elissa’s bedside.

Elissa would’ve rolled her eyes if she was not half asleep. The blades were infact caked in a poison common to a Crow assassination. The sign of their job as Zevran had explained. 

With Wynne and Zevran’s help, the poison in Elissa’s bloodstream was halted before it could do any lasting damage and her physical wounds were healed by Wynne, but it still left Elissa on her back laid out in her bed. 

Lucky, Eamon had the broken furniture cleared out without a word about it. 

“This man, Ignacio, do you know him?” Elissa asked, her eyes half shut. 

“Elissa, you need to rest.” Wynne spoke up from her spot on the other side of the bed. 

“I do, Elissa. He is who he says he is. _The_ _handler_ for the Crows in Ferelden.” Zevran flashed a smile in return to the glare Wynne sent the elf’s way. 

“And what does he want in return?”

“Crows are tricky to understand. Very rarely do they go to someone asking for something. It’s usually the other way around. I believe…”

Zevran's explanation was broken with the door to Elissa’s room opening and Anora stepping inside of it. Changed out of the dress she wore during the fighting and bathed to get rid of the blood off her skin. 

Her blue eyes were centered fully on Elissa laying prone on the bed. The wounds had been mostly healed by Wynne, now the flesh just bright red in the spots where the skin was healed.

“Perhaps this can wait until later.” Zevran said with a knowing smile. Giving Elissa and then Anora a short bow of his head before making for the door. 

Wynne rolled her eyes and leaned over to gently squeeze Elissa’s hand, “Try to keep off your feet for at least tonight. For me?”

“For you, Wynne.” Elissa replied with a lazy grin. 

The door was shut behind the healer who offered the Queen a gentle smile. Anora’s eyes had not left Elissa’s form on the bed, fingers playing with themselves in front of her. 

“What?”

“You’re hurt.” Anora said softly, finally leaving her spot in front of the door and moving to Elissa’s side. Claiming the chair Zevran had been sitting in while Wynne healed Elissa, Anora’s hands reached out to take one of Elissa’s. 

“Trust me this is nothing. Shoulda saw us after the battle with the High Dragon.” Elissa said with a half smile, whatever Zevran had given her was making her head loopy. 

Elissa’s hair had been undone from its braid and done into a messy bun. Strands of hair wild much to Anora’s amusement, those green eyes not totally focused. Keeping one hand laced with Elissa’s, Anora’s other hand brushed a few of the loose strands behind Elissa’s ear. 

Leaning up, Anora pressed a small kiss to Elissa’s chin, giggling as Elissa chased after Anora’s face. Elissa pressed a kiss to the tip of Anora’s nose, the women’s foreheads pressed together. All the while Anora’s fingers traced along the side of Elissa’s face. 

“Anyone could walk in.” Elissa said softly, eyes drooping shut before opening again, trying hard to stay awake. 

“I think we deserve at least one moment,” Anora’s lips came into a small grin.

“I can barely move, Anora. I don’t think this is the time….” Elissa’s voice became very high at the feel of Anora’s mouth moving down to kiss the side of Elissa’s neck. It almost felt wrong, with the Landsmeet just days away and the decision Elissa was going to have to make.

“I told everyone we will be busy planning for the rest of the night and that we were not to be disturbed. Granted Eamon gave me that look he always did before but I want this. I want  _ you _ , I need  _ you _ still, Elissa. No matter what happens.” Anora’s voice was no higher than a whisper, leaving kisses all along Elissa’s face. 

Her cheeks, her chin, along the curve of her strong jawline, sucking softly on that spot on Elissa’s neck that Anora knew better than everyone. Anora knew every button to press on Elissa’s body, every way to stoke the fire in the pit of Elissa’s stomach. 

Elissa’s neck rolled to the side, too tired and too wanting to feel Anora’s touch to say no. Anora shifted up closer, her lips biting down softly on Elissa’s tanned neck. A breathless moan escaping from Elissa’s lips at the feel of Anora’s lips on her neck. 

Locked in this room, they could forget the outside world. The pending Blight and Landsmeet, the nobles and the assassins, their sworn duties and high expectations. Both needed it more than they really knew.

“I can’t move all that well.” Elissa whispered into Anora’s ear. 

“I think you have earned a reward for such honorable service to your Queen.” Anora teased, playfully biting at Elissa’s earlobe. 

Elissa let out a low chuckle, “We’re you practicing that one for awhile?”

In response, Anora moved away from Elissa and stood out of the chair. Kicking her flats off, the Queen unclasped the silver pendent that was holding the straps of her baby blue dress, allowing it to drop down to become a puddle around her legs. 

The chuckle died in the pit of Elissa’s throat as it turned into a groan. While Elissa was always the warrior and held the build for it, much to Anora’s adoration, Anora’s body was all soft curves. A matching soft blue silk underwear being the only thing that covered Anora from being fully naked. 

High full pale breasts that were the right mix between large and small. Smooth toned stomach following down to long strong legs that had always caught Elissa’s attention through the cotton skirts. The Queen’s hourglass figure and plump ass finished off the light buxom statue.  Elissa could feel her cheeks tinting red as Anora stared at her with an arch brow, “Cat got your tongue now?”

Elissa was busy trying to swallow down her own desire. She could already feel the wet heat pooling in between her legs, it had been well over two years since the last time they had each other like this. And with only her own hand for company, it paled in comparison to having Anora in the flesh. 

The Queen moved onto the bed, straddling Elissa’s right leg and wrapping her arms around her lover’s neck. A silver bracelet on Anora’s right wrist being the only piece of jewelry the Queen wore. Her pale fingers played with the strands of hair at the nape of Elissa’s neck, pressing her soft supple body to Elissa’s, “I don’t want you to move a single thing. It is your reward after all.”

Elissa gave out a breathless moan at the feel of Anora’s body being pressed to hers. On reflex, Elissa’s hands cupped Anora’s round ass, rolling Anora’s hips on the curve of Elissa’s clothed thigh. Earning a playful moan from Anora who rolled her hips back down on her thigh, “Someone is excited.”

“I wish I wasn’t currently wounded.” Elissa mumbled against Anora’s lips. Elissa’s right hand pulled up on the silk underwear. 

“It has been a  _ very _ long time hasn’t it? All round up without me there to ease you.” Anora nipped at Elissa’s ear. 

“Are you just going to tease me?” Elissa growled, fingers digging into the round flesh of Anora’s ass. 

“Maybe. You are the Warden after all, Shadeslayer, dragonslayer, possible Anointed, The list only goes on. And I am the only one that can ever make you cum. It makes me feel very mighty I’ll have you know.” Anora claimed Elissa’s lips, the blonde’s hands gently clasping either side of her Warden’s face. 

Elissa leaned up into the kiss but allowed Anora to control the speed of everything in the moment. The heated kiss slowing with each passing second, becoming lazy before falling into a number of pecks against one another’s lips. 

Anora’s head dipped down again. Kissing along Elissa’s neck but not stopping like it had done before. Reaching Elissa’s collarbone, Anora’s hands gently assisted Elissa in taking off the worn loose tunic she wore. The brown tunic joining Anora’s dress on the floor. 

The breast band Elissa usually wore underneath her armor or when training was gone. Allowing her small and perky breasts to be seen to the cool air of the room. Elissa shifted underneath Anora, the Queen’s unflinching blue eyes drank in the sight of the topless Warden. 

Elissa knew she should be saying no, not with so many emotions running high through her blood. But she was so tired of crying, of killing, she wanted to feel  _ something _ ,  _ anything _ . Besides this anger that played in her stomach, waiting to be sparked. 

Anora’s right hand was back to Elissa’s stomach, smooth skin tracing over the hard edges of Elissa’s muscles as Anora’s mouth kissed in between the valley of Elissa’s breasts. Any thoughts being replaced by the feel of Anora’s mouth on her skin after so long. 

It had only taken a few careful kisses and Elissa could already feel the lust rushing through her blood.. Making her hands twitch from where they cupped Anora’s ass. 

The wet heat was already pooling in between her legs, too excited at the thought of having Anora again. Her nipples hardening from the cold air and the feel of Anora’s lips inching slower and slower to them. 

Elissa gasped when Anora’s mouth finally wrapped around one of her nipples. Her back arching nearly off the bed as Anora sealed her lips around the flesh. The tip of her tongue lashing across her puckered nipple.

“ _ Anora _ .” Elissa whispered breathlessly. One hand moving from Anora’s ass to gently weave into Anora’s blonde locks. 

A smirk was on Anora’s lips, removing her mouth from Elissa’s chest with a wet pop. Elissa head only rolled back when Anora’s lips connected to the other one, the Queen’s right hand going to gently palm her other breast. 

Elissa was sure she was already dripping through her cotton smallclothes. Elissa leaned back into the pillows, watching as Anora’s mouth left her chest and started to kiss down further. 

The Warden’s hands left Anora’s body and dropped to her sides. Allowing Anora to slip down further as she kissed. Her mouth and tongue tracing along every ridge of the hard defined stomach muscle. 

Elissa’s right hand moved back behind her head to grasp the headboard. Flexing the muscles in her arm while her left kept a grip in Anora’s blonde hair. 

The feel of Anora’s tongue and mouth kissing along her muscles and scars made the wet heat drip in between Elissa’s legs. Her pussy pulsing with each flick of Anora’s tongue. 

Anora forgot for a moment where she was and who she was. Losing herself in the moment as her eyes traced over Elissa’s well toned body. A moan escaping the Queen’s throat before she lowered her mouth back down to lick through the center hard line of Elissa’s abs. 

2 years had been too long for both of them. The blonde wished they had more time, more time for her to worship every hard inch of Elissa’s body. To lay here for hours to become reconnected with each other.

But Anora was too eager, she wanted to taste Elissa’s cum on her lips. Hear her quiet moans as her tongue glided through her glistening folds. They  _ needed _ to feel each other. 

Pressing a kiss down on one of the hard twitching muscles, Anora’s fingers went to the laces of Elissa’s breechers. Swiftly unlacing them as Anora’s mouth pressed wet kiss to right above the waistband. Looking up, the corners of Anora’s lips twisted into a smirk at the sight of Elissa’s auburn head thrown back, her arm holding onto the headboard for dear life. 

Elissa’s hooded eyes met Anora’s blue ones. The Warden’s body was flushed red, her lips parted in a slight moan. A look of pure desperation was plastered on Elissa’s face as Anora’s fingers teased around Elissa’s unlaced waistband. 

Anora couldn’t take it a moment longer and leaned back up. Clashing their lips together into a heated embrace. Tongue meeting tongue and teeth clashing against teeth. It was a messy and hurried kiss. With love, lust, anger and want all mixing together in one brilliant moment of passion. 

Elissa’s hand on the back of Anora’s neck kept her in place as the Queen’s hands went to tug down Elissa’s breeches. 

The kiss broke with Anora nipping at Elissa’s bottom lip, whispering against Elissa’s lips, “I want to taste you.”

Elissa moaned against Anora’s lips, giving a hurried nod,  _ “Please, Anora _ .”

The Queen’s smirk grew larger, pressing a kiss to Elissa’s chin before moving back down along her Warden’s body. 

Elissa’s pants and socks were thrown off to the side joining Anora as fully naked. Resting in between Elissa’s long legs, Anora couldn’t hold back the moan at the sight of Elissa’s fully naked body. 

To thick powerful arms to toned chest and stomach to long legs, the months of fighting had left her lover’s very female body in prime condition. Anora’s tongue traced from Elissa’s calves and upwards along her inner thighs. 

Elissa’s left hand was back into Anora’s hair. The powerful hand squeezing Anora’s skull as a silent plea for something more. 

But there was something very powerful about having  _ the Warden’s  _ glistering wet pussy begging for her touch. Lust and love clouding all of Anora’s other senses. All she could see was Elissa’s pulsing pussy, begging for  _ her _ .

Anora’s mouth kissed along the muscular inner thighs, earning a series of breathless moans from Elissa with each kiss that grew closer to the apex in between her legs. 

Anora couldn’t stop herself from moaning as she finally allowed her eyes to take in the sight of Elissa’s glistening pink folds. It appeared that the Warden still kept clean shaved as possible much to Anora’s pleasure. 

Though if she was honest with herself even if Elissa wasn’t shaved it wouldn’t stop her. All Anora’s mind could think of was tasting Elissa, feeling her pussy quiver as she slipped her tongue in between her legs, hearing Elissa’s moans when she wrapped her lips around her clit. 

Anora couldn’t keep herself back any longer. She was dripping down the curves of her thighs at the thought and sight of Elissa’s quivering pussy. Placing her tongue at the bottom of Elissa’s slit, Anora licked a long line upwards before swirling her tongue along Elissa’s clit. 

Elissa’s body shivered and roll in pleasure at the familiar feeling of Anora’s tongue playing with her pussy. A loud moan echoing through the room as Elissa’s eyes shut,  _ “Anora. Fuck” _

In this room they weren’t the Warden and the Queen no longer. They were their themselves, free to moan out each other names without fear. To enjoy the touch of another woman without fear of someone banishing them to the Fade. 

Elissa already knew she wasn’t going to last long, the last time she had touched herself was the night before they left for the Capital. Before that it was even longer. 

And now faced with Anora’s skilled and dutiful tongue teasing the edges of her pussy lips, drinking up her sweet tasting asoual, Elissa was already using all her willpower not to cum around Anora’s tongue. 

The Queen attempted to keep her own lust in check, leaning back to press a gentle kiss to Elissa’s clit followed up by a playful flick of her tongue across it. The Warden’s gutted moans was music to Anora’s ears. 

A shiver of pure wanton lust shot up in Anora’s chest. Wanting nothing more to suck harshly on Elissa’s clit to make her Warden cum within seconds. But the cool and calm part of Anora wanted to savor each and every moment of hearing Elissa’s lustful moans. 

Both wanted more, Anora couldn’t stop herself from taking Elissa’s clit fully into her mouth. Her lips creating a seal around the bundles of nerves and gave a teasing flick of her tongue across it.

Elissa’s back arched off the bed, her hand pulling on Anora’s hair. The Warden’s hips grinded against Anora’s mouth, her mouth parted with moans slipping out with every flick of Anora’s tongue. 

Dreaming the past two years of having Elissa’s legs around her shoulders did not compare to the reality. Memories of every psat time together flooded Anora’s head. Their lovemaking, their fucking. Sometimes slow and gentle, sometimes hurried and rush in a side room. 

Anora moaned into the pussy. She spreaded Elissa’s legs before her, ankles resting over her shoulders. Anora wasn’t even allowed to take a breath, the Cousland’s rough grip kept her mouth from moving. 

It thrilled the Queen, sending shocks of pleasure down to her own dripping pussy. Sucking down harder on Elissa’s clit, curling her tongue around the sweet tasting flesh. 

Pulling on Elissa’s clit, Anora let it pop out of her mouth with a lewd wet sound. A trail of spit connecting from Anora’s lips down to Elissa’s glistening pussy. The corner’s of Anora’s mouth twisted into a smirk as she leaned forward to blow a burst of cold air right where her lips had been. 

A much louder moan escaped from Elissa’s lips. A desperate cry rocking from the Warden’s stomach as she whined. Attempting to arch her hips down to reach Anora’s mouth,  _ “Please.” _

Anora kicked her feet up behind her. Growing more comfortable between Elissa’s legs. Crossing one ankle over another as she rolled her head to the side. Resting her blonde head on top of Elissa’s strong thigh while her hand moved to rub her palm up against Elissa’s pussy lips.  

A sharp  _ “Fuck” _ escaped from Elissa’s lips. Watching with wide eyes and parted lips as Anora played with Elissa’s outer lips with her fingers. Pale fingers becoming drenched and sticky from the sheer amount of arousal coating Elissa’s lower body.  

“I’m so close.” Elissa whispered out into the room, whining loudly at something more than Anora’s palm grinding into her pussy. 

It was only then that Anora’s mouth latched back down to Elissa’s quivering clit. With harsh and fierce suckage, the Queen’s skilled tongue lashed and curled around the hooded bundle of nerves. 

Elissa was beyond words now. A rhythm of sounds escaping the Warden’s lips as her eyes were fixed upon the Queen fucking her pussy with her mouth. The blonde’s nose was perched up on Elissa’s pubic region. Blue eyes narrowed and refusing to look anywhere but Elissa’s green eyes. 

The Warden had given up any pretense of control in the moment. The hand on the headpost was making it slam back into the wall with every grind down onto Anora’s mouth. The hand weaved into Anora’s hair kept the Queen’s mouth latched tightly to her dripping mess. 

Elissa’s mouth was wrecked open at the feel of Anora’s fingers teasing around her dripping pussy hole. The auburn haired woman only had a few moments to prepare before Anora had dipped two fingers easily inside of her. 

The Warden’s tight wet walls easily bended around Anora’s slender fingers. The duo sensation of Anora stroking her inner walls and sucking on her clit had brought Elissa nearly to her tipping point. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,  _ Anora!” _ Elissa cried out, her upper half bent forward in a half crunch as the wet heat in the pit of Elissa’s stomach hit a breaking point. The Warden’s mouth dropping open in a silent scream at Anora’s chin and fingers swiftly became covered in Elissa’s cum. 

Anora didn’t move her mouth nor her fingers from her lover. Only slowing down her intense fucking to allow Elissa to ride out her first climax in weeks.

It was a toe curling experience for Elissa. Her back fully arching off the bed before landing back into the soft cotton sheets. A thin layer of sweat covering her body as she looked down at Anora through half open eyes. 

The Queen finally disconnected herself from Elissa’s pussy. Her fingers and bottom half of her face covered in Elissa’s cum. She used the back of her hand to wipe most of it away before leaning up to claim Elissa’s lips. 

Elissa pushed Anora’s body to hers. The blonde melting into the Warden’s arms as they wrapped tight around her. Elissa was quick to get the feeling back into her bones, not wishing to disappoint Anora by falling asleep on her. 

Elissa inch up against the headboard of the bed, not trusting her newly healed wounds to say numb if she tried rolling ontp of Anora. Placing the blonde haired Queen on top of her right leg, Elissa’s lips left Anora’s to trail down the side of her neck. 

Swiftly finding Anora’s pulse point, Anora’s hands weaved through Elissa’s messy hair, allowing Elissa to bite and kiss at her long pale neck. 

Both knew that Elissa was going to leave a purple-black mark that they would have to hide but all Anora could do was grind her slippy pussy down onto Elissa’s thigh.

A deep husky sounding chuckle escaped from Elissa’s mouth, her hands gripping hips and helped grind Anora’s hips back and forth, “Is that what you want?”

“Y..your fingers.” Anora got out in between keeping her string of moans in. Anora was always more vocal with her moans. Having to bite down on her bottom lip from keeping to alerting the whole of Eamon’s estate that she was going to ride Elissa’s fingers for dear life. 

Elissa’s mouth finally left Anora’s neck.Her mouth left kissed along the side of Anora’s neck. Reaching her collarbone before nipping at the valley in between her breasts. 

One of Anora’s hands went to weave through Elissa’s hair, resting the palm of her hand at the base of Elissa’s skull while the other rested on Elissa’s right shoulder. 

Elissa’s right hand dropped traced across from Anora’s hip. Leaving goosebumps across Anora’s lower stomach before it dipped down in between the Queen’s legs. 

Anora’s moan was stiffened by biting down on her bottom lip. The feel of Elissa’s worn warm palm gently cupping her pussy caused a shot of pleasure to shoot down from her spine and straight to her clit. Making the bundles of nerves twitch in the process. 

The Queen’s mouth leaned down to claim Elissa’s mouth, her moans being swallowed down by Elissa as the tips of the redhead’s fingers teased through Anora’s outer wet folds.

“I thought of you every lonely night.” Elissa whispered out against Anora’s lips. Fingers brushing agasint Anora’s twitching clit. 

The Queen’s pink folds were glistening and dripping for Elissa but the Warden was replaying the earlier teasing. Capturing her lover’s clit in between her index and thumb, she softly pinched and then rolled the tight bundle of nerves.

_ “Ellie!” _ Anora’s threw her blonde head back, keeping her grip on Elissa’s body to keep her grounded. She grinded her hips down onto Elissa’s fingers, needing something more. The only thing she could hear over the rapid beating heart was the painful throbbing in between her legs. 

Elissa’s finger were  _ so close _ . The years of being separated with Elissa half an inch away from pleasing her was too much to bear. 

Anora was finally rewarded when Elissa’s thumb pressed down onto her clit as she slipped two worn fingers into Anora’s needy pussy. 

A broken gasp escaped Anora’s lips. Her face twisting into pleasure and her eyes shutting at the feeling of Elissa inside of her. The hand on Anora’s hip slowly started to bounce her up and down on the and down along the curve of her fingers. 

Elissa was everywhere at once. Her fingers fucking into her, her thumb brushing and rolling her clit, her mouth attached to her neck leaving more hickies for later. The gentleness that was there when this all started was long gone. 

_ The Warden _ was fucking the Queen. The lewd wet sound of Elissa’s hand fucking into Anora’s pussy echoed in the room. Seemingly only driving Elissa further in her passion. A deep growl ringing in Anora’s ears before she felt her body moving. 

Elissa was rolling Anora onto her back, her fingers still pressed fully in Anora. Elissa’s free hand quickly found and pinned Anora’s from the wrist above her head. 

Their fingers interlaced and pulled onto the sheets as Elissa renewed her harsh fucking. A wave of auburn hair covered Anora’s vision. Her pale hips arched up off the bed, reaching up to meet Elissa’s powerful thrusts into her. 

Elissa’s face hoovered mere inches above her, green mixing into blue as Anora was swiftly nearing her end, “Ellie, Ellie,  _ Ellie.” _

Anora’s back lifted up off the bed, a loud moan being silenced by Elissa claiming hers as her climax hit like a wave of burning gold sunshine from her stomach.

Wave after wave of pleasure rolled through Anora’s body. Her legs pressing together and tangling around Elissa’s arm, her moans being quieted by Elissa’s mouth on hers. 

It wasn’t until that Anora’s back fell back down into the bed that Elissa’s lips left her mouth. The Warden laying back down with Anora crawling up to place her sweaty blonde head onto Elissa’s shoulder. 

Their combined heavy breathing slowly eased until the soft sound of Anora’s giggles escaped from her lips. Pressing her face into Elissa’s chest, a small but  _ true _ smile appeared on Elissa’s features, “That good?”

“Shut up, Ellie.”

* * *

 

Elissa woke at the feeling of soft fingertips tracing over the curves of her stomach and chest. A warm naked body pressed next to her’s. Peeking half an eye open, she was greeted to the sight of Anora pressed up next to her, a thin white sheet tangled around their legs. Reaching no higher than their hips. 

Anora’s head rested on Elissa’s shoulder. The Queen’s pale fingers tracing absent minded patterns into Elissa’s skin. Enjoying warmth that rolled off of Elissa’s body.

It was one of the few times in the past months and in recent days that the storm in Elissa’s head was calm. Her body didn’t feel tense, her muscles lose, an even lazy grin coming to her lips.

The first rays of the run were hitting from the window, shining down on their tangled bodies. The warmth from the sun and Anora’s body wanting to lure Elissa back into her blissful sleep.

“How are you feeling?” Came Anora’s gentle voice, shifting her head over the smallest bit so she could press a kiss to the side of Elissa’s chin.

“Better, I guess. I don’t have a splitting headache thinking about the Landsmeet or the Blight.” Elissa's soft voice whispered, looking down at Anora.

“Now we know the cure for it, so next time you feel it coming, you can find me.” Anora attempted to tease.

“I’d rather not talk about any of it here next to you. Would be ruining a perfectly happy moment,” Elissa mumbled out, pressing her lips down onto the top of Anora’s blonde head, “And that’s something rarely found now of days.”

Anora sighed and pressed a small kiss to the side of Elissa’s neck, shutting her eyes again to focus on the warmth coming from Elissa’s body and the rising sun. 

“We can’t ignore it forever, Elissa.”

“I can ignore it as long as you’re next to me like this.”

* * *

 

The pair did seem to radiate that morning. By the time they had joined the rest of the Estate for breakfast, Anora walked with a glow around her and Elissa lost a fair bit of the grimness that had been hanging over her. 

The small smile from the night before was gone but the Warden did look better. 

The red marks that littered Anora’s neck was hidden by the high collar of the red and gold dress she wore. Elissa was decided to go with something more functional, a harden leather gambeson and pants with long leather boots. 

The members of the Grey Company were already spread out along the Arl’s dining table, elbow deep into their breakfast. A few offered a mumbling of “Hello” when the pair entered but each were more focused on the food in front of them.

If one good thing came from this one giant nightmare was that all of them could appreciate having an entire kitchen waiting on them.  

Eamon sat at the head of the table like any proud Lord did over his hall. Eyes falling onto Elissa as soon as the pair entered the dining room, “Warden, do you have a moment?”

It was past due for the Arl to approach the Warden directly. Elissa caught Alistair’s eyes for a half second, the look her fellow Warden sent her told her all she needed to know about this upcoming conversation. 

“Of course.”

Elissa didn’t miss the glance Anora sent her way, but the Warden kept her eyes on Arl. Not wishing to give Eamon even more reason to suspect what he always suspected between Elissa and Anora. 

Eamon lead her through the halls of his Estate and out into the back gardens. The morning air holding a cold nip to it, with the last days of summer behind them and the first storms of Autumn right around the corner. 

The Arl himself was dressed in a fine red and gold padded tunic and pants, his hands clasped behind his back while the pair walked in silence. 

“Your planning with the Queen last night seems to have put you into better spirits.” Eamon finally commented. 

Elissa schooled the emotions on her face and withdrawal behind an emotionless mask, not wishing to give the well versed Arl something to play off of, “Nothing about this Landsmeet has me at ease.”

A dry snort escaped from Eamon’s throat, “Too true, Elissa, too true. I am pleased to hear that you haven’t lost your touch.”

“Politics was always Fergus’s field.”

“Do yourself some justice, Elissa. Fergus was rash and quick to anger, but you knew how to deny Cailan, not many women have been able to do that.” Eamon gave a dry chuckle and winked at Elissa.

Elissa had to force the her lips into a smile. Of course, out of all her achievements and great deeds in the past year, Eamon would pick not giving into the lustful King Cailan as a young woman. 

The Arl must’ve forgotten all the times she had smacked Cailan for trying to do something. 

“You have done well here in the City, Elissa. The City Guard has declared for you, Highever is behind you and naturally the Hinterlands. You have done all of this. Loghain’s days are numbered.”

Elissa didn’t miss the way he referred it all to  _ her _ doing everything. Not that she had declared for Anora. 

“Everything has been an effort by everyone.”

“Oh I agree, but they follow you, Warden. Because they believe in you, believe in what you can do. I am sure if you wish it, they would name you Queen of Ferelden.” Eamon paused the pair on the stone path, looking out over the well kept gardens. 

Elissa was not unsurprised, Alistair had been saying since the journey to the Capital that Eamon had been pushing the two together. A bastard Theirin on the throne with a Cousland to seal the claim. 

“And I assume that deal comes with Alistair.” Elissa finally said. 

Eamon raised a brow, perhaps surprised that Elissa hadn’t just shut down the offer to begin with, “Yes. He is a Theirin. Why you are a Cousland and many respect your Family’s history, any possible rebellious Banns or Arls would be stop in their place by having a Theirin next to you.” 

“And what does Alistair think of this plan?”

At that Eamon let out a soft sigh, “He’s...off put by the idea. You know his love with that redhead bard. I told him he could keep her on the side which only angered him more. I should’ve tried harder with him when he was a boy. He doesn’t understand this life like how you do.”

“A bit of an issue seeing as I have already declared for Queen Anora and Alistair doesn’t want within 40 feet of the throne.” Elissa turned her attention from the garden and to Eamon’s face. 

She could see the smallest of twitches on the left side of Eamon’s face, “I know you hold your friendship with her dear, Elissa, but she is still a Mac Tir. She might’ve married Cailan, but she is her Father’s daughter. The same Father that sold his elven subjects into Slavery to pay to fight his own people.” 

“We both know  _ his _ crimes quite well, Eamon.” Elissa’s voice grew lower. 

“And none of us know what has happened here since Cailan left for Ostagar. She could’ve allowed her Father to take power and allowed him to act out her own orders so when the time came for this moment, she could throw him down as the martyr.” 

“And do you doubt the word of Ser Decker? Who is loyal to the Queen and has defended her innocence? The man is more honest than anyone else here in the Capital.” 

A shadow passed over Eamon’s face, taking a step closer to Elissa, “As you said, Elissa, he is loyal to the  _ Queen _ .”

Before Elissa could respond, Eamon was already speaking again, “Do you really think the nobles will stand by and allow the daughter of Loghain Mac Tir to stay sitting on the throne. The only reason they’re agreeing to it is because of  _ you _ . Do you not realize the power you hold over this Landsmeet?”

“If you’re so disdained to the idea of Anora being kept on the throne, why have you pledged your support to me?”

“Because I owe you a debt, Elissa. You saved my life, my peoples, my home. I might disagree with your plans but I swore I would assist you to end this Blight.” 

The pair fell into silence, Elissa knew how to read in between the lines well enough. Eamon was honor bound to follow Elissa through until the moment the Blight was over. Afterwards, the debt was sealed. 

But a part of Elissa knew that was far from the truth. Eamon was only with her because she was the Warden, she was favored by everyone and that Eamon couldn’t fight this war on his own.  

He was much more practical than to be bounded by a simple debt. There was more, more than what she could see. He couldn’t resist turning against her, not yet at least. 

“Alistair doesn’t want the throne and doesn’t have the experience. Anora does. It will be hard enough for this Kingdom after the Blight, with an inexperienced leader at it’s head, it will be even worse.”

“But that is why he would have you, and me.”

Silence fell in between the two as Eamon finally made his point. The two holding each other’s stare for several long tenseful moments of silence. 

There it was, what he was truthfully offering. Plain as day, hanging over the quiet pretty garden. Eamon’s eyes bore into hers, unflinching. The same emotionless look on his face. Alistair was only good for the blood that flowed through him, to stop any of rising up. 

He wanted more than his place at the table. He wanted the best seat at it. 

“Anora will be Queen. Her Father’s crimes aren’t hers. Alistair has never wanted it and you made sure of that when he was a boy.” 

Eamon gave up the pretense on his face, a full fledged frown coming to his features, “A debt it a debt, Warden. If that’s what you wish to do, the Hinterlands will follow your lead. Have a good morning.”

The man gave a short bow and walked around her, leaving Elissa in the gardens. 

Eamon was a few feet from Elissa when he stopped in the middle of the walk way. Turning to look over his shoulder at the woman, “Do not forgot, Elissa, that the power of the Crown comes from the freemen. It is not  _ absolute _ .”

* * *

 

While Anora watched Eamon and Elissa walk away she was pulled from her thoughts by Alistair approaching her. The redhead bard was only a few feet behind the Warden. The other members of the Grey Company going back to their meals and mumbled along themselves. 

“Your Majesty, eh,...uh..” Alistair started out, failing to find his words. 

“Please, Alistair. Just Anora is fine in private.” The Queen’s lips lifted into a half smile, looking from Alistair to the bard, whose name was escaping Anora. 

“Right, Anora. I,  _ we _ , need to speak to you. In private.” Alistair finally got out. Moving his hand back to take Leliana’s into his. 

Anora’s blue eyes lingered on the bard before landing back onto the bastard, giving a small nod, “The sitting room then?”

The walk across the estate was quiet. Neither Alistair nor Leliana attempted to explain what was going on, allowing Anora to lead the way. 

It was awkward to say the least. Sitting across from one another one couches imported from Antiva. While Anora looked in between the pair, Alistair and Leliana were looking anywhere that wasn’t Anora. 

“So?” Anora asked with an arch brow. 

So…” Alistair attempted to start but trailed off, looking over to Leliana. 

“So!” The Orlesian bard’s over the top perky voice nearly made Anora sigh. 

“Alistair, what is it that you two needed to tell me?” 

“It has to do Eamon. With what he said, to me, to the two of us. About the two of us.” Alistair attempted to explain. 

“The Arl took Alistair to the side last night while you and Elissa were busy, “The Bard picked up where her lover was failing, “He explained how he needed to approach Elissa to ask for her hand in marriage. And that the Hinterlands would follow in this change in alliances.” 

Anora knew that Eamon was mumbling about the idea since the moment he entered the capital but this late into the Landsmeet, it was interesting to say the least. 

“And have you had a change of heart, Alistair?”

“What? No! No, I don’t want the bloody throne. And I certainly don’t want to keep Leliana on as some mistress.”

That earned a look from Anora, “Mistress? Perhaps start over, Alistair?”

“The Arl expressed that he’s grown tired of games. He wishes for Alistair to push for the throne and claim his birthright. All that stands in his way is you and Elissa.” Leliana said, leaning over to clasp one of her hands with Alistair’s. 

“And the conversation he’s having with Elissa as we speak?”

“Him attempting to get her to agree to marry Alistair.”

“With a Cousland marrying Alistair it would silence any questions about legitimacy.” Anora mumbled nodding her head as Leliana explained. 

“It’s as if he’s forgotten what we all did for him. We killed a bloody dragon and found the ashes of  _ Andraste t _ o cure him.” Alistair hissed out, amber eyes meeting Anora’s. 

Anora stayed silent, eyes glancing in between the two. She leaned back into the plush couch, placing her chin into the palm of her hand. She had the letters from Eamon asking Cailan to annul their marriage but that wouldn’t be enough to bury him. 

She would spin it easily. That Eamon had pushed Cailan to the Empress. It wouldn't be too hard to sell, Eamon was famous for this Orlesian ties.

“Do you think he’ll act on those thoughts?” Anora asked, eyes going to land on Alistair. 

The Warden shrugged, “You would know him better, Anora. He says he has a debt to Elissa that must be repaid but after that?”

“After that he’ll be freed to do and act as he pleases. He might lose the Landsmeet, but it’s a small battle in the greater war for control of the throne.” Leliana answered. 

Anora wasn’t too surprised by the logic the bard had. She had met a few in her life and it appeared as if Leliana wasn’t any different. 

“He wouldn’t dare, would he? Not while Anora has the backing of Elissa.” Alistair asked, looking between the two women. 

Anora glanced around the room. Every door to the sitting room was locked and she knew Erlina lingered outside, making sure no one would disturb them. Elissa trusted Alistair and Leliana, did she not? 

“Ellie and I have been in love since our early teens. It would ruin me. A Mac Tir is bad enough but a lesbian on top of it?” Anora whispered out. 

Neither member of the Grey Company looked surprised which helped ease the blush that was appearing on Anora’s cheeks. There was not a soul alive that she had actually told that to. Erlina knew, of course, but it wasn’t because Anora said it as plainly as she just did. 

A warm rush came to Anora’s heart, settling into her stomach. It felt good to say that. 

“Ellie..?” Alistair trailed off. 

The blush came to Anora’s cheeks. She couldn’t resist the smile that came to her lips, the blonde’s eyes dipping down to at her feet, “My nickname for her. I didn’t like Lisa and her middle name is Ellen. Don’t tell her that I told you that, she’ll be embarrassed.” 

In spite of the moment, Alistair gave Anora a soft smile, nodding his head, “Does Eamon know?”

“I am sure he does. He’s always suspected it. Half the Court suspected something. But I am the daughter of Loghain Mac Tir and Elissa is the daughter of Bryce Cousland. No up jumped Arl or Bann would try to take down the most powerful bannermen of the King...”

But that thought made her pause.

Anora suddenly was on her feet, “Alistair, Leliana, I ask that you keep what we spoke about here between us. I will do everything in my power to protect the both of you and Elissa. I believe Eamon is more dangerous than any of us know.”

A look of confusion passed between the Grey Warden and the bard. Before the pair could stand and bow their heads Anora was already marching out of the room with a swirl of skirts.

* * *

 

By the time Elissa reentered the estate after taking time to herself out in the gardens, breakfast had already been cleared from the table and the others were off in the Capital. 

Taking an apple from the fruit basket left on the table, Elissa was about to go for a walk when a voice clearing their throat stopped her. 

Turning around, Elrina stood before her, hands clasped in front of her body, “Lady Cousland, Madam Kallian and her Family are here asking to speak to you. The Queen are having them for tea in the sitting room.” 

“Better not keep them waiting then.” Elissa said with a smile. 

Sitting on the couch in the room, Anora’s head turned when Erlina and Elissa entered the room. Kallian, Shianni and an elder looking male elf sat on the other couch opposite from Anora. A coffee table 

Before Elissa could move, Erlina slipped away and brought Elissa her own chair, placing it on the side in between the two couches. Smiling her thanks and mindful of Starfang, Elissa took her seat, looking in between Anora and the Elves.

“Thank you for joining us, Elissa,” Anora offered a smile and went to pour her a cup of tea, “I believe you have met, Shianni and Kallian. This fine gentlemen is The Honorable Elder Valendrian.”

“We have met, only in passing I am afraid.” Valendrian smiled at Elissa, offering her a small nod of his head. 

“You look better, Elder.” Elissa replied softly, accepting the cup of tea from Anora. 

“The same to you, Warden. We, I, the entire Community can not express our thankfulness for what you have done.” The tears were obviously building up behind Valendrian’s eyes as he spoke. 

Shianni looked on with a frown plastered on her face, having not touched the tea yet, while Kallian was looking down at her hands in her lap. 

“There’s something we want to give you, Warden. To express our gratitude to coming to our rescue.” Kallian said softly, looking up from her lap to catch Elissa’s eyes. 

“Kallian, I don’t need..”

“I insist, Warden. It was my Mother’s.” Kallian explained softly, removing a sheathed long curved dagger from behind her back. 

Elissa placed her tea down and leaned over to grasp the blade from Kallian.Examing the black sheathed, she could see the flowing letters of the Elvish language snitched into the leather. Drawing the dagger, the sharp silver metal shined in the light of the sitting room. 

“It’s called ‘The Fang of Fen’Harel’. Forged during the last days of the Dales, it has protected our people since the fall of the Dales. It’s been passed down in my Family since then.” Kallian explained. 

“Kallian, I can’t take this. It’s your Family’s. Pass it to your son or daughter, not me.” Elissa replied softly, placing the dagger back into the sheath and attempting to hand it back over to Kallian. 

Kallian’s eyes didn’t flinch away from Elissa’s, pushing the dagger back to Elissa, “That won’t be happening. Wynne has confirmed it.”

Elissa’s fingers wrapped around the dagger, words failing. 

Kallian didn’t seem affected by it, at least not publically. A sad smile coming to her lips, “So I want you to have it. It’s the least I can do after everything you have done for me. You’ll always be my protector.”

Elissa missed the look that flashed on Anora’s face as the Queen raised her tea glass up to her lips. Attempting to hide her narrowed eyes at the elf. 

“I..I don’t know what to say, Kallian.” Elissa took the dagger back into the palm of her hand, withdrawing it back to her side. 

“Wield it for us, Shadeslayer.” Valendarin said with a sad smile. 

“There is another reason why we’re here.” Shianni finally spoke from her spot. Her voice sounding rough and hoarse from yelling or crying. 

“Whatever you need, you will have it.” Anora said simply, placing her tea down and leaning back into the couch. 

An obvious look of annoyance flashed across Shianni’s face but Valendarin’s hand came to rest on the redhead’s knee, keeping her from saying something she might regret. 

“There were many that were killed, yes. And they will be remembered and buried in our own ways. But my people wish to know what the Crown will do to find those who were sold and shipped off to Tevinter.” 

It was a good question, Anora herself hadn’t even thought of it yet, her mind focusing on the upcoming Landsmeet and ending this Blight. 

“The mages are currently being held in Fort Drakon. Their testimonies are key to ending my Father’s rule. They hold valuable information and documents that might help us find our missing people. After the Blight and when the Kingdom is safe, I shall send an ex…”

“When the Kingdom is safe? And if that takes a year? Two? Five? Ten? All the while  _ our _ ,” Shianni spat out the word, “people are slaves to fucking Blood Mages.”

“Shianni…” Valendarin hissed to the elf. 

Anora’s head snapped to Shianni, having to hold back a frown that threatened to appear on her face. 

But the Queen was stopped by Elissa’s voice, “I’ll find them.”

Every head snapped to the Warden who was still studying the dagger in her lap. 

“Elissa, I am going to need you here…”

“No, Anora. If we win and end this Blight and somehow I live through it all, I’ll find them. I’ll go to Tevinter and bring all those I can back with me,” Elissa’s eyes moved from the dagger and to Valendarin’s, “I swear this on the Maker.”

Shianni eyes were still narrowed at the Warden but Kallian and Valendarin seemed thankful. 

“You don’t have to do that, Warden. I understand the Kingdom will need you here.” Valendarin said softly. 

“I won’t leave them to that fate, Elder. If I live through this Blight, I’ll find them. I’ll find as many as I can and bring them home.”

“It is a matter the Court will look into after the Blight is ended. The Blood Mages might have more information that will allow to a different route.” Anora attempted to regain control of the conversation. 

“We understand, Your Majesty. We are thankful for you seeing us.” The three elves stood together and gave short bows to the Queen and then Elissa. 

Once the trio were out of the room and Erlina had shut the doors behind them, Anora let out a loud sigh, “We’re not going to be able to find them. How many did they sell?”

“I didn’t promise to find all of them, Anora.”

“You still promised that you will try. That Shianni woman will use it against us the first chance she gets. We can not risk an Elf uprising.”

Elissa turned in her chair so she could face Anora, “Shianni is angry that her home was turned into a nightmare, everyone she knows dead, scarred or sold into slavery. We can’t just sit here and tell her no.”

“We can’t just sit here and give her fake promises that we have no way of keeping.”

Elissa looked away from Anora, tearing her eyes from the Queen’s vestige and looking up to the ceiling. 

Silence stretched out between the pair. Elissa could hear Anora playing with her fingers in her lap, the nervous tact Anora had formed years ago when something was on her mind. 

“You didn’t mean that.” Anora’s voice was soft, losing the steel that was present in it only moments ago. 

Elissa looked back to her, raising a brow, “Mean what?”

“Not Living past the Blight.”

Their eyes met over the distance that separated the two. Though it was only two long steps for Elissa it seemed much longer than just that. 

“I..I haven’t really thought about it. Every Warden to kill an Archdemon as died doing it. Usually hundreds of Wardens die during a Blight. And there’s currently only three in all of Ferelden.”

“You’ll come back.” Anora’s whispered out. 

Elissa’s eyes moved from the ceiling and back to Anora’s. Tears were starting to form behind Anora’s eyes, the Queen’s hands still laced in her lap. 

The Warden slipped out of her chair and approached to the Queen. Kneeling in front of Anora, Elissa slipped her hands into Anora’s lap. Elissa’s worn thumb brushed over Anora’s soft knuckles, leaning her head down to press a chaste kiss to them. 

Anora’s index finger hooked underneath Elissa’s chin, angling the Warden’s face up. Elissa pressed a lingering kiss to Anora’s nose that was followed up by Anora claiming Elissa’s lips. 

The Queen’s hand gently held onto Elissa’s chin before shifting around to cup her cheek as the kiss deepened. 

“This is going to be an issue now isn't it?” Elissa breathlessly whispered across Anora’s lips.

Anora’s lips morphed into a half smile. Fingers tracing along the back of Elissa’s neck, “I don't see any issue at all.”

“How are we supposed to focus when you kiss me like that?” Rough hands ran along Anora’s clothed thighs.

“So you're saying that I have something up on  _ The Warden _ ?”

Elissa rolled her eyes much to Anora’s amusement. The blonde’s lips reaching over again to claim Elissa’s.

Breaking their connected lips, Elissa stood and offered her hand to Anora, “I’ll come back.”

Elissa could never lie well, at least not to Anora. But the Queen didn't wish to ruin this moment with her tears. 

She was tired of crying.

 


	9. Chapter 9

_ A rainstorm greeted Fergus’s return to the Teyrnir. Rolling off the coast and slamming into the green hills of the Highever’s highlands. The party that had survived all the way from the Chained Territory didn’t seem to mind. It was home finally, the rolling hills and storms was just a part of Highever’s landscape.  _

_ Lord Mac Ritcher’s lands were the largest along the Highland Lords. Falbeg the largest city in the Highlands, the seat of Mac Ritcher’s House, was supposedly the now headquarters of the Cousland Loyalists. Those Houses and common folk that had been resisting the Howe rule since the night at Highever.  _

_ Fergus left the bulk of his men camped a few miles north of the City and only brought Ser Cedric and a few retainers into the City with him.  _

_ He knew what type of man Lord Mac Ritcher was. Honest and loyal to a fault. Fergus had feared this rumor of Falbeg housing the loyalists was a lie planted to bring out anyone aiming to resist the Howe rule from Highever.  _

_ But Mac Ritcher wouldn’t bend the knee to Howe. Not after they marched into Highever and slaughtered the Couslands at dinner.  _

_ The guards at the gates didn’t pay Fergus’s small party any mind. There was always new fighters to come and join up.  _

_ The guards at the Keep were different though. The gatehouse to the Keep was barred with a heavy armed presence on the walls. When Fergus approached he was stopped by the archers notching arrows into their bowstrings.  _

_ A knight marched out of the gatehouse from ontop of the wall, “Who goes there?” _

_ “A friend to the Mac Ritchers.” Fergus yelled back up to the wall.  _

_ “The Lord Mac Ritcher got a lot of friends these days. How do we know you’re not some pet hound sent by Thomas Howe?” The knight moved closer to the battlements, allowing Fergus to see the sigil on the man’s surcoat.  _

_ It was a red double headed battle axe on a field of black. A knight of House Sanford, one of the many self proclaimed Storm Lords of the coast.  _

_ “We are here to sign up to help fight.” Cedric spoke up from his spot next to Fergus.  _

_ The Sanford knight’s eyes moved from Fergus to Cedric, “You’re pretty well armed there. Steal that armor off a dead knight?” _

_ “No. I am Cedric Goldwyn. Knight sworn to House Cousland. I have came all the way back from Ostagar with a good force ready to help take back our home. 200 men camped just a few miles from the City.” Cedric nudged his horse forward, sending Fergus a look to stay quiet.  _

_ There was some mumbling from the guards up on the gate before finally the knight called out, “Aye, fine. Lord Mac Ritcher and Gilmore will see to you.” _

_ Dismounted and disarmed, they were shown the way into the Mac Ritcher’s main hall. A hood still up on Fergus’s head, covering most of his features from view.  _

_ Bruce Mac Ritcher was a tall and well built man entering his late 50’s with a head as white as snow. A veteran of the Civil war, he was one of Bryce Cousland’s most trusted and capable commanders in the field.  _

_ Standing in the middle of his hall, the Highland Lord stared down Ser Cedric, glancing along the party. Just off to the side was an almost familiar looking ginger haired man. But the Gilmore that Fergus remembered from before was long gone, ginger hair long and wild alongside a full beard.  _

_ He looked nothing like the young man Fergus remembered.  _

_ “Who is the cunt with his hood up? Take it off.” Bruce’s heavily accented voice rang out in the hall, pointing his large finger at Fergus.  _

_ A look of panic crossed over Cedric’s face as he attempted to stand in front of Fergus. But the Lord was already stepping forward, tossing the hood off his head.  _

_ His auburn colored hair now reached the tops of his shoulder. The goatee had become a thick full stubble, it would take a long stare to realize how it was, “My Lord Mac Ricther.” _

_ Bruce stared on at Fergus. The weathered Lord's eyes going wide as he realized who stood in front of him. _

_ But it was Gilmore that started laughing, “Out of all the fuckin’ things to happen. Fergus Cousland comes back from the fuckin’ dead.” _

_ Gilmore did not hesitate to come forward to Fergus. Taking a long good hard look at Fergus’s tired face. _

_ “You look like shit.” _

_ Fergus kept Gilmore’s stare. Silence falling over the hall while the two men were locked in a wordless stare down. _

_ Until a laugh escaped from Fergus’s mouth. The two men locking forearms, “It's good to see you Ser Gilmore.” _

_ The knight shook his head, “Nay. Not Ser. I lost that respect the night Highever fell.” _

_ “You were there? And survived? What happened?” Fergus dropped the grip on Gilmore’s forearm, crossing his own across his chest. _

_ The color drained from Gilmore’s face, dropping Fergus’s forearm and glanced around the room, “Aye, aye, you probably have only heard rumors.” _

_ Gilmore shared a look with Bruce, but the Highland Lord waved his hand off to Gilmore, “He asked for you to tell it, Gilmore. Not me.” _

_ Fergus’s eyes turned back to Gilmore, the ginger haired knight ran a hand through his wild hair, “I woke up to screaming. I should’ve saw it coming. That night at dinner all the Couslands drank and drank but Howe just sat there staring at everyone like some sour cunt. By the time I woke up, the Castle and City was already being overran. It wasn’t much of a fight after that. I tried to hold the Castle but too many were already dead.” _

_ Fergus could not keep his eyes on Gilmore. The Ser’s voice growing more somber with each word that left his lips. _

_ “How was Elissa able to escape?” _

_ “Everything happened to fast. It was close quarters fighting all over the Castle. I was trying to hold the main hall when your sister and Teynra found us. Oren and Oriana were already dead. The Teyrn was wounded, hiding in the kitchens. Howe even had mages with him, Fergus. What could we do against that?”  _

_ The knight’s eyes moved to the ground, “With Elissa’s help we were able to push back the Howes for a moment. I told them to run for the kitchens and the passage out of the castle. I held them off as long as possible.” _

_ Fergus approached closer to Gilmore. Tears were staining his eyes and falling down his cheeks silently. Grabbing the front of Gilmore’s tunic, the Teyrn pulled harshly on Gilmore, “And how is it that you survived then? When all but one of my family members were killed?”  _

_ “Your Grace…” Bruce tried to intervene on Gilmore’s behalf but Fergus’s head snapped in the Lord’s direction, sending him a fierce glare.  _

_ “That would be due to me.” A new female voice spoke out.  _

_ Every head in the room turned in the direction of the voice. Dressed in a dark leather gambeson and pants, the blonde hair and crystal blue eyes contrasted the woman’s dark clothes. A sword belt holding a long elven dagger rested around her hips.  _

_ With pointed ears like any elf, she didn’t bear any of the markings of a Dalish. But the face looked familiar to Fergus, trying to remember the woman, “I remember you.” _

_ Iona gave a short bow of her upper body, “I was a lady-In-waiting to Lady Landra. I was there that night.” _

_ Fergus used the strength in his arm to shove Gilmore back. Gilmore stumbled back from the force but stayed the distance away from Fergus allowing the Teyrn’s attention to fix upon Iona.  _

_ “And how is it that a elf lady-in-waiting was able to save one of my Father’s most skilled knights?” Fergus had turned fully now to set his eyes upon the slender elf woman.  _

_ “I was raised in the Denerim Alienage, Your Grace. Somethings come naturally. Others are taught and learned the hard way.”  _

_ “Iona found me wounded. The Great Hall had fallen, the rest of our soldiers were being cut down or trying to flee. She slipped in, killed the few guards left and helped me escape.” Gilmore explained.  _

_ “You were not able to recover the bodies of my Family?” Fergus asked in between the elf and the knight.  _

_ A dark look passed across Gilmore’s face, his eyes dropping again away from Fergus’s while Iona only nodded her head, “I had taken Gilmore to the alienage in Highever. I had friends there that would keep us hidden until we could slip out of the City unseen. It was a few days after the fighting had finally stopped and Rendon Howe had called for a parade for his victory.” _

_ Iona’s eyes met Fergus’s from the distance, “In the front were the charred bodies of Bruce and Eleanor Cousland. Behind them were the charred bodies of your wife and child. He marched them through the streets then hung their bodies above the main gates of the City. He made a show out of it.”  _

_ Fergus had heard the rumors but it didn’t prepare him to hear from those who had seen the act. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, “Wine.” _

_ Bruce sighed but did as Fergus asked. Walking to the raised table at the head of the great hall and grabbing a pitcher of wine and glass. Before returning back to Fergus’s side.  _

_ Fergus eagerly drank the contents of the glass before handing the empty glass back to Bruce, “Is it true then, Thomas Howe rules in his father's stead? _

_ “Yes. Howe has 8,000 troops spread across Highever. 1,000 alone in the City. Rendon played his hand well it seems. Half of the Houses bent the knee within the first fortnight. I do wonder how long he’s been planning this.” Bruce refilled Fergus glass and handed it back to the man.  _

_ “Waking Sea? West Hill? Surely they haven’t bent to the Howes?” Fergus downed the second glass and passed it back to Bruce to refill it again.  _

_ “Howe has sent trusted knights and forces to occupy Waking Sea and West Hill to ensure their loyalties. They’re beyond our reach.” Bruce answered.  _

_ “Your Grace, you were there at Ostagar. Besides the forces of Gwaren barely any survived the battle. Waking Sea and West Hill don’t have the men nor will.” Iona explained further. .  _

_ Fergus’s eyes landed back to Iona, sipping from the newly filled glass of wine as he sneered at Iona, “And what does a elf lady-in-waiting know of politics of the Kingdom?” _

_ The other men in the room sent glances in each other’s directions but Iona only flicked a gold brow up at Fergus, “It appears more than you.” _

_ Fergus’s eyes stared down Iona before he gave a dry snort, burying himself back into his drink, “So tell me, Lady Iona, which Houses remain loyal and true?” _

_ “The Highlands, Fergus. You know we wouldn’t bend the knee to Amaranthinians.” Bruce attempted to attract Fergus’s attention back to him and away from Iona. Fearing that the elf would become the center of Fergus’s slowly building drunk rage.  _

_ “What of my Mother’s Family, surely the Mac Eanraigs remain loyal.” _

_ “Howe had Eleaonor’s brother killed, Fergus. Alongside his entire household. The Mac Eanraig line survives through you and your sister.” Bruce went ahead and topped off Fergus’s glass as he spoke.  _

_ Fergus’s answer was twisting his body and flinging the glass of wine across the great hall to clash into a stone column. Shards of glass were sent flying as a howl of anger roared from Fergus, “Is there one left strong enough to resist the Howes? I did not fight my way from the grips of the Fade to stand by and allow Howe to rule in my home!” _

_ The silent Ser Cedric stepped forward to clasp a hand onto Fergus’s shoulder, “Your Grace,..” _

_ Fergus shrugged off Cedric’s hand, twisting around to stare down the members of the hall, “Cedric knows what we did to get here. What we saw, what we did. I refuse to stand here and have you all to tell me no.” _

_ “Fergus, the strength of Highever is spent…” _

_ “Send ravens out, tell them I have returned.” Fergus spoke over Bruce. _

_ “Oh yes, then we’ll have the entire Howe Army marching to Felbeg to kill all of us,” Iona approached Fergus, the blonde’s eyes narrowing into a glare, “The only reason you’re still alive is because Rendon and Thomas Howe think you’re dead. We have the advantage right now to build support without having their attention fully upon us.”  _

_ Fergus stepped closer to Iona. His face morphing into a fierce frown. Their height difference met that Fergus towered over the elf but the former lady-in-waiting was unmoved by Fergus’s large shadow or the look on his face.  _

_ “She’s right, Fergus. The Highlands can barely muster 1,000 men at this current moment. And that’s if every House answered our summons. The Storm Lords are hiding in their ports, the Houses along the north road are keeping to themselves. Now isn’t the time to declare that you’re alive without an army behind your back.” Bruce moved to stand next to Iona, attempting to separate the two from one another.  _

_ Fergus gritted his teeth in a flash of anger and annoyance. He knew they were right. If everything they said were true, Howe had single handedly taken control of Highever in one collected slash.   _

_ Without Waking Sea and West Hill, any attempt of meeting Howe’s Army in the field would be suicide.  _

_ Fergus sipped from the glass, allowing the sweet taste to cloud his mind and senses, trying to take him to a better time and place, “So what do we do?” _

_ “You need to rest, Fergus. To begin with.” Bruce wrapped an arm around the Lord’s shoulder, attempting to walk him out of the great hall. _

_ As if put under a spell, at the word of rest, the weeks of intense fighting and lack of sleep came roaring back to Fergus. The thought of a feather bed and a warm bath sounding like a great idea.  _

_ “A bath too.” Fergus mused, drowning his glass and allowing himself to be lead by Bruce.  _

_ “Then we will plan. There’s a few here in the Highlands that will need seeing to…” Bruce’s voice carried off as the two men walked side by side out of the great hall and elsewhere into the Keep. _

* * *

 

Fergus sipped from a glass of wine. Dressed in a loose tunic and pants, he leaned over the war table. Eyes going over the large map rolled out of the Teyrnir. They were running out of time for this plan to work.

“You’re up late again.” Iona’s voice came from near the entrance of his tent. 

Fergus didn’t bother to turn his head over his shoulder, keeping his eyes on the wooden pieces on the map, “And you’re sneaking in again.”

A smirk came to Iona’s lips. Folding her hands behind her back and stepping to Fergus’s side next to the map. The blonde elf studied the map, eyes falling onto the piece that represented Bann Warwick’s forces, “It’s the right move, Fergus. Pulling back from Highever and attempting to ambush him will only leave less forces to fight for us after the Civil War.”

That was one thing Fergus respected about Iona. The elf had a mind for thinking far ahead. His Father one said that it is wisdom that makes a good Lord and good wisdom came from listening to your advisers. 

“How much do you know about Bann Warwick?” Fergus asked. 

“That he has 4,000 men and is currently marching to kill all of us?”

Fergus glanced over to catch Iona’s eyes. The elf gave a cheeky smirk in response, “I know of the Battle of Easthallow.”

“Bann Warwick with 500 longbowmen defeated 2,000 Chevaliers, Iona. He shouldn’t be taken lightly. He took a bunch of commoners armed with pitchforks and was able to hand the fabled Chevalier Legions another defeat.”

“You’re nervous?”

“Cautious. He’s a seasoned veteran. He was loyal to my Family. And now he returns that same loyalty to the Howes. Father always said he was blindly loyal to the chain of fealty.”

Silence fell over the tent, the two looking down at the map and allowing their minds to wander. 

“Tomorrow night it all ends.” Fergus said softly, taking a sip from his glass of wine and looking down to Iona. 

“You need to relax, Fergus. To have a clear mind before what’s to come.” Iona smiled up to the man. Turning to step into Fergus’s personal space, hands running downwards along the front of his tunic. 

“I thought last time was the last time.” Fergus said with a hint of sarcasm. 

“Like you can say no to me, Fergus.” Iona nipped at his chin, hands slipping underneath his tunic to run up along the hard chiseled muscles of his stomach and chest. 

Fergus would’ve usually thrown Iona over the table and simply pounded his frustration out into her flesh but instead he leaned down to gently claim her lips. 

Iona seemed to notice the softness in the kiss. Not attempting to deepen it or add fuel to the fire. Her hands rested on his pecs as the kiss broke. The man’s nose nuzzling Iona’s cheek while his hands curled around her hips. 

They stood there in silence, Fergus holding Iona to him with her pale fingers playing with the strands of hair at the nape of his neck, “This is why I said you need to relax.”

“I am almost home. I am almost back to where it all happened. I can still remember the day I left.” Fergus’s voice was no higher than a whisper. His hands tightening around Iona’s body. 

Iona stepped away from his chest, hands slipping from underneath his shirt to cup his hands. Pulling Fergus away from the table and into the flaps that lead to Fergus’s private sleeping area. 

It was simple for a war camp with only the large cot being the real luxury compared to everyone else. Fergus looked as if he was about to say something but was stopped short when Iona sat down on the bed, motioning for him to join her. 

They ended up with Fergus’s head in her lap, fingers slowly stroking through his hair as the man laid there in silence. Latching on to the warm smoothly feeling of Iona’s fingers. 

“I still love her.” Fergus whispered out to the room. 

Iona’s fingers didn’t stop their stroking, only trembling the smallest bit. 

“His name was Bryn,” Iona began, ignoring Fergus’s whisper, “We met and quickly afterwards we were married. As you can understand, life in the Capital’s Alienage was usually short.”

Fergus shifted, going to rest on his back so he could look up at Iona from her lap. Her fingertips traced across his forehead dipping down along the curve of his cheeks. The touching was almost one of a lover. 

In the short time they had been doing  _ this _ , it was never affection. It was quick, harsh, something to hide away in. A primal need that needed filling after every near death experience. They weren’t lovers, it was just a man and a woman fulfilling some need in one another. 

“He was only a little bit younger than me. We married in the summer and by winter I was already with child.” Iona’s fingers traced along Fergus’s hairline before pushing the red-brown hair back. 

“I guess I should’ve known it wasn’t going to last forever. Amethyne wasn’t even a year old before he was gone.” Iona finished softly, blue eyes finally leaving Fergus’s to glance around the tent. 

“How did it happen?”

“The son of Bann Ellington, Ellias. Bryn was a household servant for Arl Urien Kendells, he spilled a drink all over the table, drenching the Bann’s son. According to the other servants there Urien waved Bryn off, asked him to apologize and that was the end of it.”

Iona paused, taking a number of long seconds to gather her thoughts. Her voice becoming no higher than a whisper as she struggled with tears that threatened to spill out, “But it wasn’t the end of it. Ellias was offended that some lowly elf servant had stained his favorite tunic.”

“So Ellias sent his guards to track down Bryn on his way back from the Arl’s manor. Dragged him into the Alienage where Ellias made an example out of him. I woke that morning to find his body hanging from the tree in the Alienage.” 

Iona was looking anywhere that wasn’t Fergus’s face. Her breath hitched at the feel of Fergus’s hand gently wrapping around her wrist. The man leaning up and in a few seconds their positions were switched. 

Iona was pressing her face into Fergus’s chest as tears rocked her body. The Teyrn’s hand rubbing up and down the curve of the elf’s spine to calm her.  

“It was years ago but the pain is still there. A little part of him will always be with me.” Iona mumbled out against Fergus’s chest. Her hands going to first the man’s tunic. 

Fergus didn’t speak. He hadn’t spoken a word about Oriana or Oren to anyone. He buried his pain into fighting or fucking Iona. A shiver of pain and guilt rose up in Fergus’s chest, his eyes becoming blurred so all he could make out was Iona’s blonde head. 

He wasn’t ready to talk about them, to explain what he felt. Not yet, not to Iona. He knew he should say something, to express his own pain like Iona just had done. 

But instead Fergus did the only thing he knew how to do. Gently clasping Iona’s chin in the palm of his hand, he angled her face up so his lips could claim hers. Going to push her back down onto the bed. 

This was the only way he knew how to express himself anymore.

* * *

 

Eamon didn’t like the way Anora and Elissa stood next to each other. Both the women looked stronger after their ‘night of planning’. Anora stood with her back straight and head back, Maric’s crown resting perfectly on her blonde head. Her aura commanding the room as if she owned it. 

The Warden had lost that detached look in her eyes and much of the grimness that had appeared since the moment Eamon met her in Redcliffe. Standing tall with a fur lined cloak around her shoulders, even having near met death again yesterday she was back looking strong and healthy.

The Arl sipped from his glass of whiskey. His study was filled with them once more as they waited for Zevran to bring forth this Master of Crows. Alistair and Duran stood near the wall, speaking in low tones with each other. 

Eamon’s eyes narrowed on the bastard, taking a much longer gulp from his glass. He didn’t understand Alistair, the man had the chance to take the throne and he still refused it. What kind of man turned down the chance at Royalty?

The door to the study opened, with Ignacio being lead in first followed by Ser Decker and Zevran behind him. 

Iron chains locked Ignacio’s wrists together but the man didn’t seem to mind it much. Walking into the center of the room and giving a deep bow to Anora, “Your Majesty, I do hope you find the chest of silks suitable as a personal apology from myself.”

Anora’s hands came to cup in front of her body, blue eyes studying the man, “You told Elissa that the Crows were interested in seeing my prolonged life.”

Taking that as a yes, Ignacio stood back up to his full height and nodded, “The contract on your life and the the one on the Warden are unfortunate business.”

“One of the Crows who attempted to kill me said that Lord Howe sends his regards from beyond the grave. CAn we assume it is a contract birthed from the pits of Howe’s mind?”

“Correct, Your Majesty. Lord Howe approached the House of Crows a year ago looking to eliminate the Warden. It was sometime afterwards that he came again for one to eliminate you.”

Decker did not move away from the Crow’s side. His hand resting on the hilt of his dagger, eyes narrowed down at Ignacio. 

“How nice that now you stand before both people you were paid to kill, Crow.” Decker hissed out. 

Ignacio only smiled at Decker before turning his head back to the two women, “Your Majesty, if the House of Crows were able to burn these contracts on your lives, we would. But it is our legacy and reputation on the line. We have never failed.” 

“And with Howe being dead, the contract isn’t null and void.” Elissa asked. 

“I only wish that was true, Lady Cousland. I will not bore you with how the House of Crows is ran but a certain skilled assassin is picked for each contract and from then a team is created. Until that assassin is killed, the contract is open.” Ignacio explained, sending a glance Zevran’s ways. 

Elissa noticed the glance, her eyes catching Zevran’s, “Should I be worried, Zevran?”

“My dear Warden, I could’ve killed you near 146 times since the moment you spared me.”

“The situation between you and Zevran is different, Lady Cousland. You bested him and Zevran asked to be spared, the contract was null and voided.”

“I was under the impression that Zevran was the Crow for the contract Arl Howe has on me.” Elissa raised a brow at Ignacio.

“There were two on your life, Lady Cousland. One from Arl Howe and one from Lord Regent Loghain. I do believe you’re the only person in history to survive two Crow contracts on your life.” Ignacio’s lips morphed into an easy grin. 

“So Master Ignacio, how would be eliminate the remaining contracts?” Anora asked having gathered her thoughts.

Eamon and Decker’s head turned in Anora’s direction. Was this the Queen about to make a deal with the House of Crows?

“Your Majesty, they’re  _ assassins _ , how can we trust their word? That this all isn’t just one giant trap?” Decker’s head looked in between Ignacio and the Queen. 

Eamon decided to stay silent, sipping from his glass from his spot behind everyone. A part of Eamon was almost impressed, Anora willing to deal with the House of Crows. 

“I do find that offensive.” Zevran mused out loud, a smirk on his features as he took his spot next to Duran and Alistair. 

Decker’s head twisted, frowning at Zevran. While Duran had to hide a chuckle by coughing. 

“Grandmaster Eoman has sent Tailesen to kill both the Queen and Lady Cousland during the Landsmeet. He has near 40 men under him spread out in the Capital, waiting and watching.”

Zevran’s eyes searched for Elissa’s over the distance of the room. Elissa knew only what Zevran told her of Taliesen and none of it was good. She could see the elf’s skin growing pale, breaking eye contact to look anywhere else. 

“He was also sent to collect Zevran.”

“You’re rather forthcoming with all this information.” Anora tilted her head to the side.

“I feel though that you will be a better business partner than Arl Howe or the Lord Regent, Your Majesty.” The Crow smirked, his head nodding the smallest bit. 

“You said we both could be of help to each other back in the Market.” Elissa took a step closer to Ignacio.

“I suppose assisting you in removing the contracts on your lives is not help enough.” The dry humor was balant. 

“Do all Crows have such a sense of humor, Zevran?” Anora’s eyes swept from the Master and to Zervan.

The blonde elf gave a grin and shrugged, “Only the good ones, Your Majesty.”

“There is something else that will prove useful for the Landsmeet, Your Majesty. A Bann has approached the Crows to assist in rescuing his son from a group of the former Arl Howe’s men. If it was the Warden that went to return his son to him, he and his allies would pledge their support to your cause.” Ignacio smirked. 

That peaked both Anora and Eamon’s interest. 

There was only a few Houses from the Bannorn that had stayed out of the Civil War, Eamon was doubtful that Loghain would come out of his Landsmeet with a victory but any undecided House could be used to a number of advantages. 

“I will speak to the Warden alone on this matter.” Anora announced to the room. 

“Of course, Your Majesty. I would recommend that you make your mind up quickly.” Ignacio gave another short bow. 

Before long the room was empty, with Eamon being the last to leave, sending Elissa a look that neither woman could read on his way out. 

With the door closed and the pair alone, Anora rested up against the front of the desk, “Am I really thinking about making a deal with the House of Crows?”

“You’re not making a deal with them, we’re just helping each other.” 

“That sounds like a deal to me, Ellie.”

Their eyes caught over the short distance, Elissa going to rest against the front of the desk too. Anora’s head eased over to rest ontop of Elissa’s shoulder, “We can’t make a deal with the House of Crows. If the nobility found out…”

“I travel with a Witch of the Wilds, a former Orlesian Bard, a Crow, a dwarven Prince, the bastard son of Maric, to only name a few, and they all just adore me. I think they will understand the need.” Elissa angled her face, mindful of the crown on Anora’s head, and placed a kiss down on Anora’s forehead. 

“But I am not you. I am the daughter of Loghain...”

“You need to stop saying that, Anora.” Elissa interrupted Anora. 

Elissa moved, wrapping her arms around Anora’s waist and forced Anora to look up at her, “You might be his daughter but you can’t bear the decisions that he made.”

“If only it was that simple.” Anora mused, pressing a small kiss to Elissa’s chin. 

Anora stepped away with her hands drawing downwards along Elissa’s chest. She didn’t trust herself to stay focus if she remained near Elissa and she needed a clear head. Not thinking about Elissa pressed to her. 

Elissa didn’t chase after, leaning against the desk still. His eyes following after Anora’s body, “What will you have me do, Anora? We can’t have a group of Crows hiding in wait to kill you.”

“Can we trust his information? That is what I am worried of. Perhaps Ser Decker is speaking the truth in it all being a trap.”

“Zevran trusts him.”

“Even though he attempted to kill you?”

Elissa signed and rubbed her face, “He has saved me too many times to count, Anora. If he wanted to kill me, he could’ve done it months ago.” 

A flash of shame appeared on Anora’s face. The Queen looked away from Elissa to gather her thoughts, “I...I didn’t mean that.”

“I know, Anora. What will we do?”

“We have little option. You said it yourself, we can’t allow a group of Crows hiding in the capital to kill me. We will send a messenger to Kylon..”

“No, I am not going to use the City Guard. Kylon and his men have already gone well beyond their call of duty. From fighting at the docks to the Alienage, I think they have deserved a rest.”

“And how do you plan on killing a coven of Crows then? Going to stroll in there and smile at them?” Anora had turned to face Elissa, hands clasping in front of her. 

“I have the most skilled warriors in the entire Kingdom spread across Eamon’s estate. We could make quick work of them. If you would allow it.”

“Asking permission now?” Anora turned once again, eyes scanning around the room before landing on a end table to study. 

“Who do you think this noble is?”

“I wished I knew. Whoever he or she is, they’re hiding the fact that their son is gone. And I would prefer to have all the help we could get. Very well, call them back in. We’ll do it your way.” Anora nodded and headed back to the center of the room. 

It did not take long for the members of the room to be gathered once more. Ignacio’s eyes glancing in between Anora and Elissa. 

“The Warden alongside her company will track down the Crows and eliminate them. In return, the contracts on our lives will be null and voided alongside any information of this side job. Agreeable, Master Ignacio?”

“Agreeable, Your Majesty.” 

As the room begun to empty, Anora’s voice rang out again, “Zevran, stay. I need to have a word with you.”

Elissa looked over her shoulder, Zevran sending a curious glance the Queen’s way. But Anora only smiled at Elissa, her comment from before coming back to her. Anora must wanted to apologize to Zevran.

* * *

 

It was only a half an hour later, nearly noon, for the entire company to arm and ready themselves. Elissa standing in the center dressed in the silver-red hue armor. Alistair and Leliana stood side by side, talking in low voices to themselves. 

Duran, Oghren, Shale and Sten standing around mumbling. Wynne stood off to herself, sipping from a cup of tea. Which the healer stated was not laced with any liquor. 

Zevran was nowhere to be seen which troubled Elissa. Her fingers twitched along Starfang’s hilt, the addition of Fang resting near the small of her back on her sword belt. 

“You seem almost bored, Elissa.” Morrigan's dry voice whispered next to her. 

Elissa didn’t hear the Witch slip up next to her. Giving Morrigan a glance up and down. The purple and black robes she was known for had been replaced with a full length padded robe set of the same color. With added designs to fit Morrigan’s look. The twisted oak staff that she had carried from the Wilds rested in her right hand. 

“I could say the same to you, Morrigan.” A smirk played onto the corners of Elissa’s lips. 

“There are certain pleasures in having an entire Estate to wait on you. A far cry from our many camps on the road.”

“And how are you, Morrigan? I have barely seen you since we arrived.”

“Oh, is the grand Warden worried about  _ me _ ?” Morrigan’s lips purred out. 

“I did fight Flemeth for you.”

The smirk that was starting to form on Morrigan’s lips died away at Elissa’s teasing. A soft look coming to the witch’s face as she looked away from Elissa, “And I am in your debt for that, Elissa.”

Elissa was never a touchy person out on the road but it must be the affect of having Anora back in her life that Elissa found her hand moving down to give Morrigan’s wrist a tight squeeze, “It’s fine. Your have saved me too many times to count. We’ll call it even.”

The Warden and the witch’s eyes met over the short distance. Elissa could see a look pass over Morrigan’s face. As if the witch had something to say but only nodded at Elissa, “Of course, Elissa.”

The moment was broken when Zevran strolled into the main hall. Dressed in his leather and chain armor appearing as if he wasn’t late at all, “I do apologize my humble companions but I had a chamber pot to fill.” 

Elissa could see Anora going to stand at the head ot the stairs that lead deeper into the state. Hands clasping in front of her as she shot a smile Elissa’s way. 

“Let’s head out.” Elissa slipped the helm onto her head and smacked her visor down.

* * *

 

Teagan Guerrin sighed loudly as he eased himself down into one of the chairs in his brother’s sitting room. The ride from Redcliffe to here had been taken in record time to make it before the Landsmeet. 

His body was sore and tired. All he could truthfully think about was the hot bath that awaited for him. 

But his moment of quiet was broken when Queen Anora entered the sitting room in a blur of skirts. 

Teagan peaked his blue eyes opened, looking up and down the Queen. She did look better from the last time he saw her months ago before he had formed the Bann’s Alliance to fight against her Father. 

“I would kneel, Your Majesty, but I think my legs would give out.” Teagan attempted to smile at the Queen. 

Anora waved the man off, taking the seat next to him and leaning back into the plush wood back, “There’s little need for that, Teagan. I am glad you’re here.”

“My Brother haven’t been giving you too much trouble?” Teagan allowed his body to relax into the chair, rolling his head to the side to look at Anora. 

Anora snorted loudly, “I had hoped nearly dying would’ve calmed him.”

The pair fell into silence, Teagan’s eyes closing softly as Anora stared forward deep in thought. 

“I wanted to apologize, Your Majesty. For everything that happened.” Teagan’s eyes were still shut, his voice soft as he shifted in the chair.

“You did what was right, Teagan. I would not expect Ferelden to stand idly by while a tyrant tries to take power.” 

That caused Teagan to open an eye, studying the side of Anora’s face, “You’ve changed.”

“We have all changed, Teagan. I heard what happened at Redcliffe, after the Blight, you’ll have any support from the Crown that you need.”

“Your Majesty, that is unnecessary. The Bannorn and the south are going to need the Crown’s funding more than Redcliffe.” 

Teagan watched as the Queen moved to the doors of the sitting room, he thought for a moment he had said something wrong. That was before she moved her hands to slowly shut and lock the doors, “Teagan, I must ask a difficult question of you. And it mustn't leave this room.”

* * *

 

Elissa was surprised to see that the Crows were not waiting for them. There was no way to hide the heavy armed party moving through the streets of the capital and hiding Shale was impossible.

Instead there was no armed party waiting for them, only a calm silence. 

With Zevran and Alistair flanking her sides, the side street emptied out into an isolated courtyard. The warehouse that the Crows were supposedly using as their hideout stood unguarded. If anyone was to pass by, it looked just like another abandoned warehouse that had closed up due to the Blight. 

Elissa scanned up along the roofs of the building, a silence falling over the company as they glanced over the empty courtyard. 

“Is there some sorta secret Crow knock we need to use?” Alistair smiled, looking over to Zevran.

“If we brought a whore or two it might’ve eased relations over.” Zevran teased, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. His hands resting on the hilts of his twin short swords. 

The silence was finally broken when a number of doors around the courtyard were kicked open. Behind them, in the only means of escape, a flaming wagon was pushed over, a wall of fire now blocking their means of escape. 

From the doors came the heavily armed Crows. The Company formed a circle in the courtyard. With Wynne and Morrigan in the middle, the warriors and rouges faced off as the Crows lazily circled them.

Coming from the main warehouse door, was a less heavily armed male. With copper skin and black hair like anyone from Anvita, he walked with the same swagger and confidence Zevran was known. 

Elissa could only figure that this was Taliesen himself. With the steel shield strapped to her left forearm, the Warden drew Starfang from her sword belt. The sound of steel being drawn echoed through the courtyard as the rest of the Company readied their weapons. 

“Ah! Zevran, my friend. It’s so good to see you.” Taliesen’s accent was thick. His hands clapping together as he neared closer to the trio. 

A pair of Crow guards flanked either side of Taliesen, their weapons already drawn. 

“Taliesen.” Zevran mumbled flatly. 

“Come on, Zevran. Your master plan worked. Giving yourself up to the Warden, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. You have done what the Crows asked you to do. There is no need to keep up this pretense.” 

Zevran took a small step back, inching closer to the circle of companions, “No, Taliesen.”

“Think very carefully, Zevran. Because I will only offer this once.” Taliesen hissed out, eyes not flinching away from Zevran, acting as if Elissa and the others were not there. 

“The Grandmaster will take you back in. He is not ready to let go of his investment. Have you forgotten where we came from? How they raised us up?” 

“I am not some prized cattle, Taliesen.” Zevran took a long step back forward. While Zevran was shorter than Tailesen, the fury from the elf made him stand taller. 

“Then come back for me, Zevran. Do you truthfully think you’ll leave here alive? Look around you, the best of the House of Crows are here to kill the Warden. Don’t be stupid, Zevran. Since when has a Crow have honor?”

Zevran stepped closer, leaving Elissa and Alistair’s side.

“Honorable enough to know what is right and what is wrong, Taliesen. Attempting to kill the only person who is able to stop the Blight is not right.” Zevran hissed out, drawing the curved short swords from his hips. 

“Ah, I see. You have grown rather fond of her haven’t you?”, A smirk came to Taliesen’s lips, glancing from Zevran to Elissa, “You let him fuck you then? He is rather good isn’t he. That little tongue of his…”

The rest of Taliesen’s gloat was cut off by Zevran charging forward. The two Crow guards were caught unaware but Taliesen’s lips twisted into an ugly smirk. The fellow Crow knew what he was doing, twin daggers appearing from behind his back to catch Zevran’s swords. 

“1,000 gold to whoever brings me the Warden’s head!” Taliesen yelled out before turning his attention back to the duel with Zevran. 

It was then that chaos descended onto the courtyard. 

Zevran’s twin swords sliced around the legs of the twin Crow guards that blocked his way to Taliesen. The two unexpecting to the sudden skill that the elf had as he charged forward to Taliesen. 

“Come on, Zevran. We all know it was going to come to this!” Taliesen’s dagger met Zevran’s swords in a brilliant clash of steel. 

Elissa swung her shield to the side to catch the head of a bearded Crow’s axe. Twisting and shoving it along the rim of her shield, Starfang followed up with slamming through the leather and chain he wore, slamming it down to it’s hilt. 

A volley of arrows rain down from the archers surrounding the circle but it was quickly blasted away from a telekinesis blast from the top of Morrigan’s staff. 

The earth shook as Shale, Sten and Oghren charged forward into the mass of Crows. The heavy stone arms of the golem sent Crows flying through the air to only smash against the stone buildings. The duel might of the Beresaad and berserker sending shocks through the Crow ranks. 

The bodies of Crows were quickly mounting around the courtyard. Staining the stone and dirt road below them red. This was not like the City Guard they had faced in the Market, instead they faced some of the most skilled warriors walking in Ferelden. 

Alistair caught the blade of a Crow’s dagger with the crossguard of his sword. Parrying it off to the side, he sent the rim of his heater shield up to slam into the side of the assassin's head. The metal rim cleaving through the side of their skull. 

A shiver of fear ran down Tailesen’s spine. The numerical edge was quickly dropping without much of a fight. Watching as Morrigan sent a blast of air into the knee cap of a Crow, shattering the bone in half, her loud scream being heard over the chaos of the fighting. 

The leader turned his attention back to Zevran, the two locked in an equal duel of daggers and swords. 

Alistair and Leliana worked as a single team. The warrior protecting the Bard as the redhead sent arrow after arrow flying into approaching Crows. 

And as quickly as the violence started, it ended. With only Oghren hosting any wounds, the Crows laid dead spread across the courtyard. The stone and dirt earth below them was stained red with the blood of the fallen, thankfully not as bad as it was in the Alienage. 

Elissa kicked the dead Crow off the edge of Starfang, allowing the body to drop to the ground. Turning her attention back to where Zevran and Tailesen dueled. 

Zevran had the achieved the upper hand in the duel. Sending Tailesen on the back foot with every powerful strike of his elf twin swords. 

Zevran had already disarmed Tailesen of one of his curved daggers. The strength in the parry sent Tailesen’s other dagger flying through the air. Zevran did not let up, stepping inside of Tailesen’s guard. The blonde elf’s sword slashed across the inside of Tailesen’s right thigh. Cutting deep into the femoral artery. 

A look of surprise flashed across Tailesen’s face at the swift brutality. He fell on his back, hands flying down to grasp his inner thigh to slow the bleeding. The olive skinned man’s teeth clenched together, eyes narrowed up at Zevran, “It never met anything, Zevran. I...”

Whatever final speech Tailesen had was quickly ended by Zevran slicing the edge of his sword across Tailesen’s throat. The man’s words morphing into choking as crimson blood poured from his neck. 

Zevran didn’t look away from Tailesen. Watching every last second, every last struggled gasp of breath until finally the assassin fell fully onto his back, not moving. 

Elissa could see the tears in Zevran’s eyes. The former Crow falling to his knees, dropping his weapons as a pained scream echoed through the courtyard. The elf’s entire body shaking with an unflinching rage that Elissa didn’t think Zevran was possible of showing. 

Alistair and Duran were quickly at his side. Both grabbing either of Zevran’s arms and lifting him up onto his feet, “Come, it’s done, Zevran.” 

But the dwarf Prince’s words fell on silent ears as Zevran only screamed louder, allowing himself to be pulled up onto his feet. 

Elissa kept the visor on her helm down, eyes scanning over the fight and waving her hand back in the direction they came, “That’s enough for today.”

* * *

 

The sweet taste of the red wine felt good on Elissa’s lips. She was laid out across one of the couches in the sitting room. Leliana laid out across from her, the redhead bard sipping from another glass. 

The rest of the Company were elsewhere enjoying themselves. Elissa had finally decided to allow herself to enjoy some of the comforts the estate had. While she would’ve prefered Anora’s company, they had already drawn enough attention with their little sleepover and didn’t want to bring the eyes of the Bannorn back onto their rumored relationship. 

Not that Leliana was poor company, but after having a taste of Anora again, Elissa’s body craved for more. 

“Did you always know?” Leliana’s voice broke through the silence. The redhead swinging her legs up and attempting to sit up. 

Elissa mimicked it, the pitcher of wine on the coffee table was fall more empty than she had realized. The pair having drank through it quicker than she would’ve liked. 

“Know what?”

“I am just curious how it all happened.” Leliana moved from her couch to join Elissa on her’s. Tucking her legs underneath her body and placing her elbow onto the back of the couch. Cheek resting into the palm of her hand before she took a long sip from her glass of wine. 

Elissa’s brows fumbled together. Her head hazy from the amount of wine that had already drank, “I’m missing something.”

Leliana leaned forward, her voice dropping to a whisper, “You and the Queen. How you’re lesbian.”

Elissa blinked several times at Leliana. She lifted the rim of her glass up and drowned it down, “Did Alistair tell you?”

Leliana threw her head back in an attempt to stiffen her giggle, “No but you just did.”

Panic rose up in Elissa’s chest, gripping her heart, “Leliana, you can’t say…”

“Please, Elissa. You know I wouldn’t. I always told Alistair you were obviously attracted to women.” Leliana giggled again. She leaned over back to the table, grabbing the nearly empty pitcher of wine to refill their glasses. 

“Am..am I that obvious?” Elissa whispered out. 

“Do not think I didn’t see the long glances my way.” Leliana teased, taking a long glup from her glass. 

Elissa’s face became beat red, shaking her head, “It wasn’t like that, Leliana. I love Anora and you’re with Alistair…”

Leliana leaned over to place a hand onto Elissa’s shoulder, “I know. Though if neither were there, I would have my head in between your legs right this moment.” 

Elissa could only stutter in response, drowning half of her glass of wine as Leliana attempted her best to hide her giggles. 

“I..I didn’t realize you…” Elissa trailed off, looking up from her glass to catch Leliana’s bright blue eyes. 

“I have had both male and female lovers, Elissa. In Orlais, the matter is not such a big issue.” Leliana explained, her eyes studying Elissa’s face. 

“Tell that to your nobility and their grand game.”

“Oh, some will still use it against them. But many are quite open about what they prefer. A bad reputation is still a reputation.” Leliana offered a soft smile, still studying Elissa from over the rim of her wine glass. 

“You have never spoken about it, have you?” Leliana asked, tilting her head to the side. 

“With only Anora. I don’t even think my parents expected it. There were rumors, lots of them, but they never challenged me on them.” Elissa placed her glass into her lap, fingers tracing over the rim. 

“Why didn’t you ever tell us?” Leliana shifted closer, going to wrap an arm around Elissa’s shoulders. 

It was a question that Elissa didn’t know the answer to. Her relationship with Anora was one of her most guarded secrets. Having years to make sure she left no hint for her affection for the Queen. Having one eye over her shoulder at all times to ensure the Court never had any  _ real _ proof. 

Out there on the road she was someone else. Even since arriving at the capitol she had changed tenfold. Killing Howe had done that, having that vengeance taste only like ash in her mouth. 

“I don’t know.” Elissa finally said softly.

Leliana didn’t push for an answer. Going to place her glass of wine onto the table in front of them. But keeping her arm still tucked around Elissa’s shoulders, giving the Warden time to speak if she wanted to. 

“I..I didn’t want to think about it out there. All I could think about was killing Howe. That was the one thing that drove me since the night at Highever. The only thing I cared for was killing him and his entire Family. I dreamed of how I was going to do it. I went over and over it in my head. How I would make him scream, cry.” Elissa whispered out to the room. 

Elissa took a sharp breath, attempting to calm her breathing, “I am sorry.”

Leliana offered her a smile, “Were there others before Anora?”

Elissa was knocked off guard by the quick change of the subject but she thankful for it. Taking a sip of her wine to calm her racing thoughts. 

“Not many. A few Bann’s daughters that were adventurous, Castle servants. She was the first I…”

“Was it love at first sight?” Leliana sighed happily, finally moving her arm away from Elissa’s shoulders. 

There was something odd about seeing the Warden with a blush on her cheeks. It was a nice sight, Leliana admitted to herself. Seeing Elissa behind the armor she wore. 

“We met because Cailan was trying to make a move on me and I kneed him in the privates.” Elissa said with a straight face. 

Leliana fell into a fit of giggles forcing a smile to crack onto the corners of Elissa’s lips. 

“I’ll be honest, we knew each other in passing but after that we became friends. I stayed that summer here in the capital with her. And it sorta just...happened.” A full smile begun to appear on Elissa’s lips. 

“Who kissed who first?” 

Elissa’s cheeks blushed red again, drowning her glass of wine. The wine was starting to have its effect as the pitcher was quickly emptying between the two redheads, “I did. She just has this way of  _ looking _ at me that ruins me.” 

“When did you know you were in love with her?” 

Elissa shook her head. Going to refill her glass of wine with what was left in the large pitcher, “It was slow. Anora tried very hard to resist what she felt and to be truthful, so did I. Saying goodbye became harder and harder until it got to the point that I didn’t want to say goodbye. Maybe it was then?”

The Warden placed her glass in her lap. Eyes dropping down to the red liquid in the glass. She tucked her hair behind her right ear, the smile on her lips growing larger, “But the first time we actually said it? Cailan had taken the liking of some nobleman’s daughter, Elizabeth MacGarth. Elizabeth thought she was safe because she was Cailan’s new play thing, so she went on a warpath on Anora.”

“Me, being the person I am and knowing the person Anora kept hidden from everyone else, I  _ might’ve _ attacked Elizabeth in front of half of the Court for speaking ill of the future Queen. I found Anora crying her eyes out and she tried ending our relationship again. Instead I told her that I loved her.” 

“Stubbornly in love?” 

“I wasn’t about to let her slip through my fingers. Some might say I should’ve. A lot of things would be easier if I had.” Elissa quietly whispered the last part. Moving the wine back up to her lips to sip. 

“You shouldn’t say that, Elissa. Love is the most powerful thing in this entire world. It was the love the Maker had for Andraste that brought his light back to us. It’s the love that you have for her that drives you forward. You shouldn’t ever be ashamed of who you love."

The Warden fell silent. Not looking at Leliana and instead staring forward into the empty dark room. The silence drew on longer and longer that Leliana begun to think that she had overstepped in trying to get Elissa to open up. 

Leliana was about to open her mouth to apologize when Elissa’s voice stopped her. 

“Look at me, all it took was a few drinks and I am spilling my most guarded secret.” There was an attempt of humor but Leliana could hear how Elissa’s voice was quivering. 

“I..It’s hard for me to talk about it, Leliana. We have kept it hidden for so long that our relationship isn’t like you and Alistair’s. But thank you, for giving me the chance to say it plainly.”

Through the darkness Leliana could see Elissa’s head turning, offering a rare true smile.

* * *

 

The sight of a dwarf and a elf walking side by side through the streets of Denim caught a few stares in their directions but neither Zevran or Duran noticed them. 

Wearing heavy hoods, the pair had been walking in silence as soon as they left Eamon’s estate, becoming lost along the backstreets and rundown buildings. 

A pipe rested on Duran’s lips, blowing small smoke rings every now and again. Humming a tune under his breath, one in which he has long forgotten the words to. 

“You never mentioned that you had a relationship with him.” Duran finally asked, breaking the silence that had ranged in between the two friends since the start of their walk. 

The elf glanced down to the dwarf, his eyes still red from crying but nodded his head. Looking back to the nightlife of the capital around them, “It wasn’t for me.”

Zevran wasn’t even surprised that Duran had connected the dots. The dwarf had a way of knowing these things. 

“Rinna?”

“Rinna.” 

The pair fell into silence again, finding a small tavern out of the way of the mainstreet. The pair found a table and ordered something stronger than just wine for the evening. 

Zevran stared down at the glass of amber whiskey. Speaking again for the first time in what felt like hours, “You don’t have to watch over me, Duran. I won’t do anything stupid.”

“Aye, well, I don’t care.” Duran shrugged, taking a long drink of his ale. 

The dwarf’s bluntness forced a dry snort from Zevran. The elf taking a sip from his drink, “All I could think about was seeing what Elissa did to Howe.”

“Elissa has her own demons. A lot of them.”

“He was the one that convinced me that Rinna had betrayed us. I listened to him despite what my heart said. All I could think of was seeing Rinna bleeding out telling me how much she  _ loved _ me.” Zevran placed his glass back down, resting his elbows down onto the edge of the table. 

Duran had heard the tale a number of times before but kept silent. Allowing Zevran to speak his mind. 

“I wanted to do far worse to him. He deserved far worse to him. But I couldn’t, even after everything he did, I could remember when we were boys, our moments of love. I..I don’t know if I did the right thing.” Zevran finally whispered out. 

“He was going to kill us, Zevran. You did what you had to. What was right in the moment, and in that moment, that’s all that matters.” 

“Were you not the one that was telling Elissa to spare Loghain?”

That caught Duran into silence. The dwarf looking down to his tankard to study the amber brew, “He hurt you, Zev.”

“Loghain has done far worse than hurt a single person but you’re telling her to spare him. Yet you’re telling me I was doing  _ right _ killing Taliesen.”

“In the  _ moment _ it was right.”

“So if Elissa is to kill Loghain, in that  _ moment  _ will she be right?” Zevran hissed out at the dwarf. Amber eyes narrowing onto Duran’s face. 

“I don’t know.”

“What was that?”

“I said I don’t know! I don’t know, I don’t know what is right or what is wrong. What is harder or what is easier, Zevran.” Duran raised his voice but quickly fell to a whisper, turning his eyes away from Zevran to drink. 

The elf let out a long sigh. Features softening on the dwarf, “I am sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“No, I know.”

“You never spoken about the Deep…”

“I don’t plan to today.”

“But with Elissa leaning on you, Duran, you need someone else to talk to.”

“If I could spare every single one of our enemies, I would. Bhelen, Loghain, Howe, Taliesen; they’re all the same. People. What I saw down there, Zevran, it’s us and the Darkspawn. That is it.” 

Zevran sighed, his head dipping down to study the liquor in his glass, “I was a fool to think I could escape it here.”

“And I thought I was going to die in the Deep Roads, eaten alive by some Darkspawn. Things happen for a reason, Zevran. Fate brought you to this moment for a reason. All you have to do is decide what to do with the moments.” 

Zevran’s amber eyes caught Duran’s blue ones from over the small table. Looking as if he was going to say something but broke the eye contact and sipped from his glass, “And what does fate say to do in this moment?”

“Live and let go.”

Zevran didn’t answer Duran. Not like there was much of an answer to give back to the dwarf after something like that. 

A silence fell over the two friends. At least for Zevran it was a comfortable silence. Duran being this silent rock to grab onto when the times became tough. 

He had came to Ferelden to die but since then Fate had decided that it wasn’t his time. Not even throwing himself onto the sword of the most feared woman in the Kingdom would do it. 

_ ‘Live and let go.’ _ He had carried Rinna’s death on his shoulders since the moment the first dagger slipped into her skin. Even running half the world away, he couldn’t run away from his memories. 

Perhaps that was the issue, trying to run away from the memories and not accepting them. Accepting that it happened, accepting it and moving on. Because only then he could live. 

Zevran’s eyes glanced back up. Catching Duran’s eyes, the dwarf had been studying him through the silence, the elf offered him a small smile. 

Lifting his crystal glass of whiskey up in a toast, “To the dead.”

Duran mimicked it with his tankard of ale, “To the dead.”

* * *

 

The door to the Queen’s rooms were unlocked allowing Elissa to slip in with ease. The Warden, even though a plate wielding warrior and quite drunk, moved surprisingly fast and quiet. 

Anora stood just on the other side of the room. Back to the door, the blonde’s hair was down as she read a scroll laid out on the table in front of her, “Having a good night?”

Elissa rolled her eyes. Pushing herself off the door, she approached Anora. The Queen turned, one hand holding a letter, her brows fumbled together at Elissa. 

But the Warden didn’t want to think about the Landsmeet, the Blight or anything else in that current moment besides Anora. Removing the letter from Anora’s hand, she tossed it behind her head and grabbed Anora’s hands. 

“I was reading that.” Anora grumbled but allowed herself to be pulled forward. 

Elissa pressed Anora to her body. Anora’s head rested on top of Elissa’s shoulder, nose nuzzling across the side of the redhead’s neck, “I am much more interesting than a letter.”

Anora was amused by Elissa. The wine had its effect on Elissa, the stiff Warden Anora had getting to know replaced by that girl from before. 

“I was talking to Leliana about you. About us.” Elissa whispered out, placing her arms around Anora’s body. Deciding to sway the two side to side in a sorta drunk waltz box step. 

The blonde was pulled into the dance, allowing Elissa to take the lead but was nothing more than swaying side to side with their bodies pressed together. Anora chased away the shiver of fear that ran up through her stomach.

She was not used to speaking openly about Elissa. Knowing that Alistair and Leliana knew about the relationship of Queen Anora and Warden Elissa thrilled and scared Anora equally handed. 

“And what did you say?”

“I said that I love you. How  _ this _ all started. How it was just physical to begin with.”

“I resent that. I became quite smitten by you in those opening months.”

“Oh really?” They couldn’t see each other faces but Anora knew that Elissa was copying her arched brow to tease her. 

“Are you really going to make me explain this to you? Like how I have done a million times before.”

“Humor me. I want to hear it again.” 

By the way Elissa’s voice dipped to a whisper it was more her  _ needing _ to hear it than  _ wanting _ . 

“You were  _ Elissa Cousland _ . You were just perfect at everything. You knew how to dance better than me, play the piano, could fight better than most knights and soldiers.  You were beautiful so beautiful. Cailan wanted you, everyone wanted you. Don’t think I was jealous, I was amazed by you.” 

Anora pressed her lips to the side of Elissa’s neck, nuzzling the wet spot with her nose, “Back then everything was just a fury of emotions that I didn’t understand. I wanted you so  _ badly _ , that I didn’t understand it.”

“You did go in between screaming at me then to kissing me a lot at the start.” Elissa mused out loud, earning a smack on her chest from Anora. 

“I am not like you, Ellie. Just able to  _ know _ right in the moment.”

The swaying finally stopped. The two standing in the middle of the room, with Anora going to lace her fingers with Elissa’s and walked backwards towards the bed. Pulling Elissa with her. 

Anora sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling Elissa to sit down next to her. Their interlaced fingers rested in Anora’s lap. The blonde’s pale free hand ran along the top of Elissa’s darker hand, running her soft fingers along Elissa’s knuckles. 

Elissa leaned down and placed her head onto Anora’s shoulder. Anora turned to press a kiss to the top of her lover’s redhead, “I was so afraid when I heard you were heading to the Capital.”

“Why?”

“That you didn’t love me anymore. That you forgot about me..”

Anora was cut off by Elissa snorting and shaking her head, “Trust me, I don’t think that’s possible, Anora. All along the road, I tried  _ so hard _ to not think of you. Because I couldn’t bear it, not with everything that happened and still happening around us.” 

“If you ask me, Ellie, I would do it.” Anora said softly. 

It took a few seconds for Elissa to understand what Anora was offering to her. What they had always wanted. What they had always dreamed of, a life with each other. A real life, a real relationship that wasn’t longing looks in side rooms. 

Anora was offering to give up the Crown for her. 

Elissa brought her free arm to wrap around Anora’s waist, pressing her head into the side of Anora’s face. The two hugging each other as tightly as they could in the position. 

From the moment Elissa had met her Anora was determined to be the greatest Queen she could be. No matter if Cailan didn’t love, no matter if the nobility spoke ill of her in their Court games. Anora would rule with a just and fair hand. 

It was one of the things that Elissa loved the most about Anora. Her sense of duty to her Kingdom and people. She was proud of the woman and ruler Anora had became even faced with opposition in every turn she took. 

But without her duty, without the Court and Crown hanging above them, Anora would be free to be open with Elissa. 

“You were born to be a Queen, Anora.”

“I was born to  _ love you _ , Elissa.” Anora mumbled back, her hands flying to grasp the sides of Elissa’s face and connect their lips into a tearful kiss. 


	10. Chapter 10

The Arl of Denerim’s Estate had become a ghost town since the Warden’s ramage through it. A City Guard company had went through to clean up the bodies and now kept watch over the gates to make sure no thief attempted to make off with anything inside. 

It didn’t matter much to Zevran. Wearing a dark hooded cloak that cut off near the middle of his calves, he wore only some light leather and a small dagger strapped to the small of his back. 

The elf moved quickly and easily through the predawn streets, slipping past the guard stations and retracing his steps through the back garden. 

He avoided the guard patrols, not wishing to attract any attention or rumor of someone breaking into the the former Arl Howe’s estate. 

There was common rumor now that whichever poor noble was named the next Arl of Denerim, them too would meet a bloody end. With the ghosts of Rendon Howe and Vaughan Kendells haunting the halls as an echo to the now bloody history of the estate. 

The inside of the estate was mostly quiet. Only a few patrolled the inside with the rest were sleeping in the connected barracks. 

Flashes of Elissa’s bloody march to her lover came back to Zevran head as he passed the door to the bedroom the Queen had been held in. He tried his best to keep those thoughts down, not wishing to be reminded of his own memories of the day before. 

It appeared that Kylon had sent his best men to guard the estate because not a single room had been looted, at least yet. Zevran reached the end of the hallway, turning into the Arl’s quiet bedroom.

Zevran’s eyes flashed over the chains that had bounded Kallian, but he was there on a mission. 

Crossing the room to where Howe’s desk stood, his eyes ran over the unrolled scrolls and books on Howe’s desk. History books, half written private letters, there was nothing he was searching for. 

Standing behind the desk, Zevran bent down to look through the drawers. Finding a few empty bottles of wine and more worn journals that Zevran thumbed through, the former Crow was starting to grow annoyed. 

Running his hands along the underside of the desk, he searched for anything that had been planted out of sight, any loose piece of wood that would hide a hidden drawer. 

But he found nothing. 

Growling to himself and the time he was losing he turned to the two bookshelves behind him. Books, scrolls and trophies laid along the shelves. Zevran went through them as fast as he could, before finally something caught his eye. 

The shimmer of silver hidden behind a number of books and scrolls. Pushing them to the side, a silver knob stood out of the back of the bookshelf. Grasping it, he twisted it to the side, the rush of air being heard as the bookshelf lifted up and then back. 

“What a clever little man.” Zevran mumbled to himself, pushing the bookshelf backwards so that it would slowly swing open into the hidden room. 

It appeared to be the hiding place of Howe’s most prized items. Open chests of gold and gems could be seen from the lit candles in the bedroom. 

Turning back away from the room, Zevran picked up a lite candle and entered the secret room proper, attempting to see in the low light. 

Standing ontop of a small table in the center of the room was an open strongbox. Inside was a bundle of letters, scrolls and worn journals. Zevran could make out the broken Royal Seals, what must’ve been the seal of House Howe and others he did not recognized. 

The sound of footsteps and voices coming from the outside hallway broke Zevran from exploring more. Shutting the lid on the strongbox, he slip it into his satchel and moved out of the secret room. Locking the bookshelf back into place and hiding the silver knob from showing, he moved like a shadow back out of the estate and into the streets. 

He had found what he was sent to find.

* * *

 

Her clothes were laid out for her already on the bed. Starfang and the silver Fang resting on her dark leather sword belt. The long harden leather coat and pants were laid out for her, with matching high dark leather boots. A silver clasp bearing what Anora had coined as her sigil, the Grey Warden griffon surrounded by the Cousland laurel wreath, rested on coat’s right shoulder. Holding together a Cousland blue slash that would run from shoulder to hip, forming a small half cape on her back. 

Anora had hand picked everything, the eyes of the entire Kingdom were going to be on her today and she must look the part. 

But Elissa found herself staring at herself through the reflection of a full length body mirror. With her breast band already on and a pair of cotton small clothes, she found herself lingering before getting dressed. 

She could recall when she was young how badly she wanted some scar to show everyone. To have a story to tell, to make Elissa Cousland something more than Bryce’s little spitfire. 

Elissa was pulled from her thoughts when Anora appeared in the mirror behind Elissa. Dressed in a stunning green and gold dress with Maric’s crown on her head. Blonde hair was done in an elegant braided bun. 

Anora leaned up the short distance to place her chin onto Elissa’s shoulder, her hands going to rest on Elissa’s well defined abs. Fingers tracing over the scars she found there. 

Elissa still did not know her decision. She knew Anora would not press for it, not after what she saw in the Alienage. But Elissa’s eyes could not leave Anora’s, looking at each other through the reflection of the mirror. 

Anora broke eye contact and buried her face into the side of Elissa’s neck, fingers still tracing over the Warden’s stomach, “No matter what happens today I need you to know that I have loved you like no one else.”

Elissa’s features softened. Turning in Anora’s arms and pressing the smaller woman to her chest. Her hands ran up and down the curve of Anora’s spine, making sure not to leave a wrinkle in the Queen’s fine dress.

Elissa could feel her neck starting to get wet from Anora’s tears but the Queen refused to let go of her, “Do you want me to help you get dressed?”

Anora skilled fingers and hands meant that Elissa was nearly fully dressed as dawn broke over the city. The Queen stepping up into Elissa’s space to place the silver pin onto Elissa’s right shoulder, moving the half cape over Elissa’s head and clicking it all into place. 

Next came Elissa tightening her sword belt around her hips. Starfang resting on her left hip and then Fang resting at the spot near the small of her back. 

With her boots and gloves added, Elissa was ready for the crowds. Her auburn hair done in a tight braid that met the middle point in between her shoulder blades. Snapping her heels together, Elissa stood to her full height and clasped her hands behind her back, looking down to Anora. 

The Queen still stood in front of the Warden. Hands smoothing out the ruffled edges before going to rest on Elissa’s board shoulders, “You know when I became Queen, I started picturing you in the place of Cailan. I never told you, of course because you would think me odd, but I couldn’t help it. It was the only way I was going to survive not having you around me all the time.”

“I would picture you sitting next to me in the throne. You wearing a matching crown to that of mine. Us walking through the streets visiting the market stalls, having that same stern look on your face but cracking when I would hold your hand.” Anora’s voice was soft, fingers tracing along Elissa’s cheekbone. 

“Why couldn’t it of been you.” Elissa said softy.

Anora blinked a few times, “I am surprised you remember that. It was so long ago.”

“Just like how you wanted to stay in that cabin forever.”

“I stand by that sentiment.” Anora smiled at Elissa but it failed when Elissa didn’t match it. 

Elissa’s hand came to gently grip the back of Anora’s neck to hold her head steady as Elissa pressed her forehead down to hers. A soft sigh escaping the redhead’s lips at the feel of their noses brushing. 

“As do I, my love.” Elissa said softly, leaning down to press a peck to the tip of Anora’s nose. 

A sad smile appeared on Elissa’s lips when Anora followed up the peck on her nose with a peck of her own to Elissa’s chin, “I love you, Elissa.”

“I love you too.”

The two women held each other there for as long as they could. Eyes closed and becoming lost in their own little world. Back to that bed in the cabin in the woods. Where the storms passed on around them.

* * *

 

The main hall of Eamon’s estate was becoming cramped. With the members of the Grey Company hugging the right wall, every notable House of Highever and the Hinterlands were gathered waiting for the Queen and Warden.

The mumbling along the nobles came to an end when Anora and Elissa appeared at the head of the stairs that lead deeper into the estate. The Queen stood tall next to the Warden, the sunlight coming from the windows shone down on the pair, making the gold crown Anora wore to shine more than usual.

“The very character of Ferelden will be decided in the coming hours. No matter what might be said, I beg for you not to resort to violence in the Landsmeet. Only if my Father resorts to it first, we shall meet it. I refuse to allow this to be turned into a bloodbath.”

There was the question of why they just didn’t arrest Loghain. They surely had the upper hand even with Loghain’s supporters. But any who harbored any second guesses of the Queen did not speak. 

Ser Decker stood up from the front rank of the group. Going to stand on the first step of the stairs to speak out over the hall, “The City Guard has formally pledged their support for the Queen and us. If Loghain attempts to arrest or attack us, we have 5,000 men inside of the City to take control. Alongside the personal retinues of the nobility.” 

“Do you think there will be violence, Your Majesty?” Eamon asked from the center of the Hinterland delegation. 

“This man is no longer my Father, Arl Eamon. Anything is possible. I employ all of us to keep a calm head. He is still the Hero of the River Dane, Lord Chancellor of King Maric, many along the common folk still follow him. But let us not delay this any longer.”

A cheer of ‘Long Live the Queen’ echoed through the hall before it begun to empty. 

“Shale, Oghren and Sten will be your personal guards for the Landsmeet.” Elissa explained as the pair stepped down the steps to the members of the Grey Company stood with Eamon. 

Anora eyes scanned up and down the golem, dwarf and Qunari, having to hold back a sigh, “That certainly won’t attract any funny looks.” 

“Myself, Kylon and a selection of his best men will be with you too, Your Majesty.” Ser Decker explained from Anora’s side. 

Eamon stroked his beard, looking in between Elissa and Anora, “Teagan and I shall go now to start the debate. Alfstanna and Franderel will be waiting for you at the entrance, Elissa. I assume you’ll be somewhere, Your Majesty?”

“I’ll make my appearance once Elissa has entered the debate. Go with the Maker on your side.” Anora offered a smile to the Company before stepping out of the circle to leave. Ser Decker, Shale, Sten and Oghren following after her.

“Leliana, Morrigan; go with Eamon. Keep our host safe if things turn south.” The black haired witch didn’t look thrill but Leliana gave a stiff nod of her head. 

“I do hope you’re ready, Warden.” Eamon shot Elissa one last long look before leaving with Teagan. The two women only a few steps behind them. 

“Look on the bright side, Elissa. You already crowned one ruler, how hard can the second one be.” Duran teased from next to her. 

Elissa caught Riordan's eyes, the aged Warden tapped the satchel on his side as he nodded at Elissa.

* * *

True to Eamon’s word, Franderel and Alfstanna was waiting for Elissa in front of the doors that lead to the Landsmeet chamber. Though standing in front of them was a familiar silver clad knight bearing a black surcoat with a yellow Wyvern on it. 

Elissa had to figure that Loghain would keep his faithful second to guard the entrance to the Landsmeet Hall. With Alistair standing next to her and the other three taking up the rear, Elissa motioned off the others from drawing their weapons, going to slowly approach the lone Knight. 

“Ser Cauthrien.”

“Warden.”

The two women faced off of each other. Elissa resting her hands on her sword belt while Cauthrien cupped her hands in front of her, “Will you let us pass, Ser?”

“We both know that I can’t let you pass, Warden.”

“Able or want, Cauthrien? Those are two different questions I think.” Elissa’s voice reminded soft, her green eyes landing softly on the knight’s face.

Cauthrien could not keep the Warden’s stare, dropping to scan those behind her before landing on Alistair, “My Lord charged me with..”

“Cauthrien, the Loghain you know is gone. Let me ask you something, when he ordered the retreat at Ostagar what was the first thing you felt?”

Whatever Cauthrien had planned to say seemed to die on in her throat. Her eyes moving from Alistair back to Elissa. A small red tint showed onto Cauthrien’s cheeks alongside a look that could only be connected to shame graced the knight’s face. 

“You swear many oaths as a Knight, don’t you? Protect the innocent, serve your King, serve your Lord, uphold the Law. But how many have you broken to do another I wonder.”

Elissa moved forward, going inside of the Knight’s personal space, Cauthrien’s voice was no higher than a whisper, “He said that the battle was lost. The Darkspawn were too many even with our forces. He pulled the forces to save us all. I believed him at first.”

Elissa raised a brow but allowed Cauthrien to continue, “When we came back to the Capital it was fine for a few weeks but once news spread that you lived, he became different. The story on why he left the field started to change, he was obsessed with stopping you. And that bastard Howe just played it even more.”

Cauthrien’s eyes finally met Elissa’s, “He only grew more erratic until Anora left. I think something broke in him, he stopped speaking to everyone. Then the news of the Alienage came rushing to the Palace. Ser Lucien tired saying we should kill the Queen, Loghain  _ snapped.  _ Something snapped him in, he tried killing Lucien for saying it. He woke up after that”

“Woke up?” Alistair’s voice cut through the otherwise two way conversation.

Cauthrien glanced away from Elissa to speak to Alistair, “Woke up. He looked  _ better _ . It was the first time since before Ostagar that it was the old Loghain speaking or maybe this is the new Loghain who have realized everything that has happened.”

“So we’re expected to simply pat him on the back for realizing what kind of monster he has been? That everything is okay now because he’s finally taken the stick out of his ass?” Alistair’s voice was nearly yelling but Cauthrien seemed disinterested in what he had to say. 

Elissa waved her hand off at Alistair, wanting to turn Cauthrien’s attention back to her, “Do you remember what the Queen said to you at Howe’s estate.”

“Honor is a fickle thing.” 

“You have your oath to protect Loghain, to protect the Kingdom and to protect the Crown.  You can regain your honor by allowing us to pace. There is no need for more bloodshed, Cauthrien. Please, for the love of the Maker,  _ step to the side _ .” Elissa voice was pleading with the knight. 

Elissa thought for a moment that Cauthrien wasn’t going to but finally, the knight took a large step to the side, allowing them entrance to the doors. 

“Don’t forgot what he was before the end, Warden.”

* * *

 

Elissa entered the hall with Alfstanna and Franderel flanked on either side of her. The different mix of screaming voices and the mumbling of the crowds echoed through the massive Landsmeet Hall and throne room. 

The herald next to the door snapped to attention and was about to blow his trumpet before across the hall, a series of trumpets rang out. Drowning out the screaming voices and bringing the attention to near the foot of the throne.

The crowd around Elissa started to part once they realized who she was. The herald voice from across the hall echoed to where Elissa was moving through the crowd, “Presenting His Excellency, Lord Regent of Ferelden, Teyrn of Gwaren, Lord of House Mac Tir and the Hero of the River Dane, Loghain!”

A cheer rose up from the supporters of Loghain. By the time the herald had finished Loghain’s list of titles, Elissa had made her way to the base of the stairs that lead up to the throne, becoming the center point of Loghain’s vision. 

The Teyrn was dressed much in the style of Elissa. A long leather coat trimmed with gold around the cuffs and edges. A dark fur coat resting around his shoulders with the hilt of his sword resting from his hip. 

“Presenting, Her Ladyship, the Bann of Harper’s Ford, the…”

“Correct me if I am wrong, herald, but when one undergoes the Grey Warden Joining, they give up every past title and claim.” Loghain’s dry voice echoed out, cutting over the herald. 

“And a wanted traitor of the Kingdom.” The Teyrn mused, hands going to rest on the hilt of his sword. 

“Lies and slander! It was you that quit the field at Ostagar!” Eamon’s familiar sounding voice yelled from his spot next to the Hinterland side of the room. 

A round of cheers came from the room while a series of boos echoed from Loghain’s supporters. 

Loghain lifted his hand up, calling for silence from his supporters, “Listen to me, Fereldens. This would be bastard Prince is nothing more than a tool to be used by Arl Eamon to control the throne. Eamon’s ties with the Orlesians are well known, this Prince is nothing more than an attempt to reestablish the height of the Orlesian Empire.” 

Elissa sudied Loghain. She always remembered the General to be well matured but still having a certain strength to him. He was the very idol of the common people, having risen from nothing to the Right-Hand of the King. 

But now the man looked sickly. His white skin an unhealthy pale. Eyes hooded and pulled back into his skull. The stress lines and wrinkles carved into his skin. 

She switched her eyes from Loghain, looking over her shoulders to scan over the hall. She saw Eamon surrounded by Teagan, Leliana and Morrigan, attempting to keep anyone from getting close to the de facto Teyrn of the Hinterlands. 

On the right balcony that overlooked the Landsmeet the Grand Cleric and Seeker Hadrian stood watching over the screaming mess. The Seeker offered her a tight nod. 

“So your wild theory gave you the right to take  power from the throne, leave King Cailan to die at Ostagar and install a reign of terror over the Kingdom?” Teagan stepped forward. 

“ _ Bann Teagan _ . Tell me, Teagan, how much did the Orlesians pay you and your Bann’s Alliance to rebel against the Crown?”  Loghain’s head snapped to set his stare upon the Bann. 

“Look at the great Hero of the River Dane, Landsmeet. So corrupted by thoughts of Orlesian invasion that he doesn’t even see what he has done to this Kingdom!” 

“The only threat here is you, Bann Teagan.”

“The true threat is the Blight. Nothing else and nothing more.” Elissa finally decided to speak. 

Elissa was surprised how fast the hall became silent once the nobles realized that the Warden had finally spoke up. 

“Waking Sea is overrun with refugees, Maker knows how long until the darkspawn follow in force.” Alfstanna agreed, nodding her head. 

“The South is on it’s last leg, Loghain! How long did I ask for Royal support while the darkspawn moved unchecked through my lands. How much more death do you need to see the truth!” Arl Bryland of South Reach yelled from his spot. 

Elissa was nearly surprised, Bryland was one of Loghain’s largest bannermen.  

“The Blight is indeed real, my Lords and Ladies. But do we need the Grey Wardens to fight it? Did we not see what happens when Grey Wardens lead when the army fell at Ostagar?” 

“They aimed to bring four legions of Chevaliers from Orlais over the border to  _ help  _ defeat this Blight? Would we be so quick to sell back our freedom to our past overlords?” While Loghain attempted to keep his voice strong, it did not match his body language. 

So it seemed that Loghain did have an idea about the letters hidden in Cailan’s chest. Elissa lifted her arm upwards to point to Loghain while she turned her head to speak outwards to the Landsmeet, “He is blinded by a simple and deep rooted hatred for the Orlesians that is blinding him of any sense or direction. The same blindness that allowed Rendon Howe to imprison and torture innocents. Tell me Loghain was it you that gave the order to butcher my Family in their beds? Men, women, and children? Where was the King’s Justice?”

“Lord Thomas Howe has installed a reign of terror over Highever, torturing and killing people by the hundreds. Where is the Crown?” Franderel spoke with the rest of the Highever Houses cheering in agreement. 

“The Warden speaks truly. My son was kidnapped from my own home under the cover of night. The things done to him...are beyond any skill of a healer.”

If Loghain could become any paler he did in that moment. Elissa could see her words cutting into him, she had hit a cord bringing up his blindness. The Warden was slowly starting to see that this was only between the two of them. The entire rest of the Landsmeet could simply be ants on the ground in the eyes of Loghain. 

“Howe will pay for any crimes he committed in this life by the will of the Maker. Whatever Howe may have done, he should of been brought before the Court and dealt an equal and fair justice. Not butchering a man in his home.” 

A blow for a blow, Elissa could feel herself twitching. But there was no smirk on Loghain’s face, only the same emotionless stare. He wanted Elissa to lash out at him, to bring up the killings at Highever. The Cousland had to swallow her anger and own emotions to speak with a clear mind, “Is that why you sent a blood mage to Arl Eamon to kill him?”

“Trust me Warden, if I wanted Eamon dead, I will be the one twisting the sword into his fat stomach.” 

“Indeed, Loghain? My brother tells a much different tale. He states that you sent your own men to capture a blood mage from the Chantry’s justice.” Once again Alfstanna’s voice spoke up, her tone dripping with venom from the torture done to her brother by Howe. 

“The rumors are in fact true, Landsmeet. The Divine have asked me to bring charges before the Teyrn Loghain.” 

A series of mumbling along the nobles rose up at the Grand Cleric opposition of the Lord Regent. 

“Whatever I have done, I will answer for later,” The first part of Loghain’s sentence was so low that Elissa barely heard it, “I wish to know where my daughter is, Warden.”

“Hiding from you most likely. After you stripped her of any power and had her thrown away.” Elissa hissed out low towards the man. 

“I believe I can speak for myself.” Anora’s voice rang through the hall. Both Loghain and Elissa’s heads snapping towards the side entrance where Anora stood. 

From the side entrances and the front doors, came the sound of marching feet. The gold tinted and white cloaks of the City Guard entering the Landsmeet Hall.

The silver clad and black surcoat wearing knights and Men-At-Arms of Gwaren pulled back to Loghain as the hall took a collective breath. 

Elissa could see Loghain’s eyes softening at the sight of Anora, any words he had on his lips seemed to die. His eyes staring at the woman his daughter became while she marched forward to stand near the stairs that lead to the throne. 

“Hear me Landsmeet, my Father is not the man we remember him as. The man who stands before us is not the Hero of the River Dane. This man left his King, his friends and thousands of good soldiers to die at Ostagar. He took Cailan’s throne before the King’s body was even cold and threw me to the side. If it was not for this Warden, this Cousland, I would not be standing here today.”

Elissa looked over the General’s shoulder to catch the sight of Anora in what she did best. It must've been the light catching from the window far above the throne shining down on her but it seemed to catch the gold of the crown she wore and her own blonde hair, but in that moment Elissa had never seen someone look even more beautiful. It was nearly inspiring. 

From the side entrance Anora had entered from, Ser Decker and Kylon came forward with a collection of guards. In chains, were Atticus and Caladrius. 

“Hear me Landsmeet, the rumors of what happened at the Alienage are true. Before you are two of the three Blood Mages hired by my Father and Arl Howe to sell his own people into slavery to pay for the Civil War against the Bann’s Alliance.” Anora waved her hand to Ser Decker and Kylon, who in turn forced the Blood Mages to their knees in front of the throne. 

“What the Queen says is true, Landsmeet. I was there to see it first hand and saw the Royal Decree the Lord Regent issued. Daring to strip the rights of our Elven citizens that he pretends to fight for.” Eamon argued. 

Ser Decker hauled Caladrius away from his brother and forced him onto his feet, “Explain, Blood Mage.”

The cries of “Heathen!” and “Heretic!” were screamed from various different spots in the hall. Elissa casted her eyes up to see the Grand Cleric looking like she swallowed a lemon whole while the Seeker had his eyes fixed on the mage. 

“My name is Lord Caladrius of the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Maevryn. I hold a seat in the Magisterium, the upper house of the Tevinter imperium Senate,” Caladrius paused, cracking his neck to allow the mumbling to spill across the hall, “My Family was approached by Arl Howe some two years ago to assist in eliminating his political enemies. The plans for House Cousland were laid then.”  

Elissa tighten her hand around Starfang’s hilt, even now in defeat, Caladrius spoke with such arrogance and pride.

“In return for assisting Arl Howe with his enemies, my Family were paid handsomely. Titles of nobility were given to myself and my brothers. I did not come into direct contact with Lord Regent Loghain until before this Ostagar battle. He did not seem off put by agreeing to work with Tevinter mages to assist in killing the King. Once this civil war spurted up, it was under the Lord Regent’s orders that the rights of the elves here in the  _ capital _ were stripped and we begun to sell them to other connections to fund his war effort.”

That seemed to spark a large group of the gathered nobles. Angry screaming and chanting for Loghain’s head started to echo through the Landsmeet Hall. The chants of “Heathen!” and “Heretics!” becoming louder and louder with each passing moment. Ser Decker pulled the blood mage back behind the lines of City Guard, the mage still had information useful to the Crown. 

Only calming at the sight of Anora marching forward to stand before her father, hands cupping in front of her body, “I beg you, Father, for the love you once held for me, to stand down.”

Loghain’s body twisted away from his daughter and towards Elissa. The Warden could see the General’s face twisting in some reaction to an unknown pain. His eyes shutting for a few passing moments as if to keep in tears, “No, this must end in only one way.” 

Elissa could see the look of panic crossing Anora’s face as it broke through the mask of ice. Loghain took a deep breath before turning his back to his daughter and spoke to the Landsmeet, “I have been the protector of this Kingdom has long as I have drawn breath. Landsmeet, the future of this Kingdom rests in your hands. I pray you make the right decision.” 

“Highever goes with the Warden!” Alfstanna yelled out to the Landsmeet. 

“The Hinterlands follows the Warden.” 

“Gwaren follows Logh…”

“To the hell with that! South Reach is with the Warden!” Bryland yelled over one of Loghain’s minor Lords. 

“Aye, Dragon’s Peak is with the Warden! Without her my son would be dead.” 

“The Bannorn is with the Warden!” 

“The Chantry supports Queen Anora and the Warden.”

Elissa’s attention was fixed only on Loghain. The man simply stood in silence, one hand resting on his sword hilt and the other on his belt. His stare too fixed on Elissa. If Elissa didn’t know better, the man even seemed pleased.

The sound of Loghain slowly drawing his sword echoed through the Landsmeet hall. His own soldiers looking in between each other, hands going to draw their own weapons. Silence filled the hall as the nobles backed away from the railing on the second story. 

A look of panic flashed across Anora’s face but stayed silent. Elissa’s hands remained resting on her sword belt, “You have heard the Landsmeet, Loghain.”

“Aye, but we both knew it would come to this, Warden. From the moment you walked into the City. How will it end, I leave that to you.”

“It doesn’t have to end like this, Loghain. More men don’t need to die.”

“You’re correct, Warden. These men don’t have to die, only one of us.” Loghain’s longsword came to rest on his shoulder, calling off his own soldiers in the chamber. 

Elissa’s eyes fell onto Anora whose form was stiff and emotionless. Her fingers clenched together tightly in front of her body. The Warden couldn’t read anything coming off of her lover. 

A part of her simply wanted to let the soldiers capture Loghain and his men, they had the superior numbers but Loghain’s words seemed to ring through her ears. It would turn into a bloodbath if she ordered the City Guard to arrest him. 

This is what he wanted, he wanted to ensure Anora couldn’t be connected to him. Loghain did know what he did, he knew that there was no chance for him to win the Landsmeet. All of it was simply going through the motions. 

He was a man that wanted to die. 

Before Elissa could reason with Loghain, the General arched his head upwards to speak out over the Landsmeet, “A duel then. I believe it is both of our rights.”

Elissa could hear the mumbling coming from the different parties in the Chamber but it was the Grand Cleric that spoke out, “If both parties agree, single combat until the other yields.”

“Will you fight me yourself, Warden?”

Elissa’s eyes flashed to Anora, who seemed even worse now. Her skin becoming an unhealthy pale. There was the sound of armor moving behind her and then a male voice speaking into her ear, “Let me, Elissa, let me have this. I know you’re conflicted, let me be the one that guts him.”

_ ‘And the blood would still be on my hands.’ _ The words echoed through Elissa’s head. 

She shook of Alistair and moved forward, drawing Starfang from her hip and nodding slightly, “Myself, Loghain.”

The ghost of a smile seemed to nearly appear on the corners of Loghain’s mouth, “Maric once told me that a man is defined by the quality of his enemies.”

Loghain lifted his hands up to clasp the fur cloak off his shoulders and drew the silverite longsword from his hip. 

Elissa mimicked him, drawing Starfang from her hip as she stepped forward to Loghain. 

It was then out of the corner of her eye she saw Riordan stepping forward, “I invoke the Grey Warden Right of Conscription on Teyrn Loghain!” 

The air was sucked out of the room. Elissa had to hold down from her body shaking as she attempted to step away from Loghain. Her eyes went wide at Riordan, having not expected the man to act on his own. 

The Teyrn shook his head to fight off the shock, “No! Fight me, Warden!”

“Alea iacta est.” Caladrius mumbled from his spot under heavy guard. 

Loghain, though in a weaken state compared to the strength he usually carried, surged off of his back foot. Stepping off on his right, the veteran warrior was quickly closing in on Elissa within a few passing moments. 

The nobility gave them room, taking several long steps back to give both the fighters room to fight. 

Starfang met Loghain’s slivertie sword in the air. The loud clinching of steel echoing through the hall. The two quickly separated again, Loghain attempting to force Elissa to circle around as they stared each other down. 

Elissa was the one to attack forward this time. Cutting off Loghain’s attempted encirclement to control the movement of the fight. They were probing each other to test their strengths, looking for weakness. Without heavy plate, any hardon attack could mean their lives. 

Their two blades connected in the air, the two warriors attempting to assert their force over the other until the lower part of their blades were pressed together. 

Their faces were only a few inches away from each other. Forcing Elissa’s green eyes to bear down into Loghain’s hazel stare. Their closeness caught Elissa’s attention long enough for Loghain to use it to his advantage. 

Forcing their blades down, Loghain rammed his sword into Elissa’s body, using his larger body to send Elissa stumbling back. He followed it up with a quick stab in the direction of Elissa’s stomach. 

The Warden narrowly avoided the stab into her stomach by side stepping far off to her right to gain distance in between her and Loghain. 

Loghain didn’t press the advantage on Elissa. Instead squaring off his body and gripping his longsword into a two-handed grip.  As if taunting Elissa to attack him. 

Elissa regained her step, the careful lock on the rage in the pit of her stomach slowly becoming unlocked with each passing second. Her breath coming out hard with a slight growl. When Elissa stepped off to attack Loghain the second time, her berserker traits were on full show. 

A fierce growl  roared from the pit of Elissa’s stomach as their blades met again. This was the man that had forced all of this. From the defeat at Ostagar, to the assassins sent after her. It was Loghain that allowed Howe to kill her Family. It was Loghain that had caused the civil war that lead Ferelden weak against the Blight.

Loghain was not prepared for the strength in Elissa’s blow, hammering at the grip on his own longsword, sending it falling from his hands. 

Loghain took a long step back as his sword fell from his grip, drawing the dagger from his side to slash at Elissa. 

Starfang’s blade caught the short dagger, sliding it down to reach the point of her crossguard. She twisted her wrist to parry both their weapons to her right side, slipping her left hand off her sword hilt to backhand Loghain across the face. 

The Teyrn was sent stumbling back but unlike Loghain, Elissa did not allow the man a moment to recover himself. It was only Loghain’s experience in countless battles that kept him from dying at the edge of Starfang. 

Elissa’s right foot slammed out to connect with the side of Loghain’s right knee. A loud crack echoing as Elissa’s boot cracked weak bone. A cry of pain rung from Loghain’s lips, falling onto his back leg. 

The dagger fell from his hand and was kicked out of reach by Elissa’s foot. The Warden breathing hard as she circled around his downed body. 

But Loghain was not done yet, reaching for the last dagger he hid in his left boot, as Elissa drew near, he launched himself at Elissa stabbing for her heart. 

Elissa’s left forearm caught the brunt of the blow, adding what would be another would that would scar. The Warden sent her right knee flying up to ram painfully into Loghain, once, twice and then a third time. 

The berserker fueled strikes sent Loghain flying onto his back. 

As Loghain struggled up onto his hands and knee, Elissa ended up behind Loghain. Leveling her blade to the back of Loghain’s neck before she lifted her sword up to deliver the finishing blow. 

“Do It, Warden. I fought, I lost, now end it.” Loghain hissed out.

She could see Anora rushing forward towards her side and then the loud footsteps of Alistair coming from behind her. 

“Come on, Elissa, kill him already.”

“He yielded, Elissa. There is no need to butcher the man!”

“Just like how he butchered this entire Kingdom, Anora! He has to pay for his crimes, with his life.”

While the two were yelling, the rest of the Landsmeet seemed to draw closer, silently watching the affair. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Duran watching with the same emotionless face, his own words echoing through her mind. 

_ ‘The mistake of true courage is not knowing when to take a life, but when to spare one.’  _

_ ‘You said it yourself Elissa, he has to pay for what he did.’ _

_ ‘The worst horrors are the ones we inflict on ourselves.’  _

_ ‘Remember what he was before the end.’ _

_ ‘Every man must pay for his crimes, from the highest lord to the lowest peasant.’ _

_ ‘The guilt, the hatred you have in you. You must let it go.’ _

A fury of different voices seemed to all speak at the same time inside of Elissa’s head. Her hand flexing and unflexing around Starfang’s hilt, her eyes leveled with the back of Loghain’s head. 

The different voices help calm the rushing rage that had spilled out during the duel. Deep breaths to control and calm her ragged lungs. The air filled her lungs helping cool down the Warden. 

“The Right of Conscription has been invoked, Warden! Stand down!” She could see Riordan reaching for a weapon hilt on his belt, Alistair went to step in the way to block him from stopping Elissa. 

“What? Have you gone  _ mad? _ After what he did to you? To our brothers, to everyone?”

“Grey Wardens during the Blight don’t have the privilege to be politically correct, Alistair.”

“Do it if you must. At least make it quick for him.” Anora’s voice only cracked slightly, her eyes burning a hole into the side of Elissa’s face

“No, Anora, this is the end. I never met for any of this to happen. I love you, Anora, never forgot that.” Loghain’s voice was soft, his eyes flicking over from Elissa for a few passing moments to take one last glance at his daughter before going back to look at Elissa. His eyes shut softly as he simply waited for the blow. 

The sound of Howe’s screams echoed through Elissa’s ears. The beating of his flesh, the sound of his bones breaking underneath her metal gauntlets. She couldn’t do it, she couldn’t kill him. Riordan knew it. She was too weak. 

Elissa dropped her grip on her hilt, stepping away from Loghain, “The Right of Conscription has been invoked….” 

Chaos erupted over the Landsmeet hall. All she could see was a sea of screaming voices and faces, Eamon stepping closer to Riordan, Teagan coming forward to keep his brother in check. 

“If you won’t kill him, Elissa, I will then!” The sound of Alistair screaming and drawing his sword was the immediate answer to break Elissa’s silence. 

But as Alistair’s sword swung down to hack into Loghain’s skull, Starfang met it halfway, bringing the two Warden’s crossing swords. Alistair seemed stunned to see Elissa, the woman that had become his sister, now protecting the man that caused this all.

“Y..you can’t be doing this, Elissa! He left Ducan to die, he left Cailan to die. How much blood is on his hands?”

“And how many have we killed, Alistair? He did what he did and I have decided that he is not beyond redemption. Look at him, Alistair and tell me you will take a pleasure in killing him.”

“And what makes you so sure we can trust him? How long will it be before he’s aiming a dagger at our backs!”

The entire Landsmeet chamber passed in between the two screaming Wardens. Both gripping their swords with tight hands and breathing hard from their screaming match. 

“He is going to take the Joining, Alistair. If he lives he will become a Grey Warden and assist us in ending this Blight that he failed to end in the first place.”

“I won’t call him a Brother! He doesn’t deserve the title after he left the others to die at Ostagar. He fucking sold his own people into SLAVERY!”

Alistair seemed to have more to say but Eamon made his way to the front of the gathering and started to whisper something into his ear, turning the Warden away from Elissa. 

Elissa turned now to face the Landsmeet, “You have given me your support and it is with that I pledge my word to Queen Anora. The rightful ruler to Ferelden.”

Anora was still trying to understand what just happened. She had accepted her Father was going to die, she knew that it was going to happen. Her blue eyes still trying to make sense of everything that had just happened. A part of her wanted to simply walk up to Elissa throw her arms around her neck and kiss her.

She could feel the eyes of the entire Court and Nobility on her, it was time for Anora to do what she did best. 

“The threat of the Blight remains. I name this Warden, Elissa Cousland, the General of my Armies. With the treaties she had gathered an army of Elves, Dwarves and Mages are waiting for our call. Call the banners, Ferelden marches for war! We will end the Blight before it can truly begin and restore order to our Kingdom or die trying. This I swear to you.”

Anora moved to come and stand next to Elissa as she finished her speech, the chamber erupting into loud cheering. 

Though all the while, Alistair and Eamon had slipped from the hall.

* * *

 

Elissa hands flew to grip the front of Loghain’s tunic, throwing the man against the wall of the locked side room, ignoring Anora and Riordan. 

There was a height difference but due to Loghain’s wound on his leg, he slumped against the cool stone. The Teyrn hadn’t breathed a word since Riordan conscripted him, perhaps still in shock that he hadn’t died on the Landsmeet floor. 

“If you betray me, Loghain, what I did to Rendon Howe will pale in comparison to what I will do to you. Do you understand me, Loghain?” Elissa hissed out, her hands gripping Loghain’s tunic tightly. 

The former Teyrn could only nod. 

Elissa slammed Loghain against the wall one last time before stepping away, “Do it, Riordan.”

The redhead stayed away from Anora, not trusting herself around the Queen. She was one straw away from snapping already and the look Anora was sending her way would break that last straw. 

Riordan opened the satchel to produce the two vials needed. One filled with Darkspawn blood and the other filled with Archdemon’s blood. 

“You two planned this?” Anora whispered out, looking in between Elissa and Riordan. 

“Warden Elissa approached me to offer it as another option. I decided to act on it and not allow Elissa to have a choice. We need every Warden we can get. Loghain defeated the might of the Orlesian Empire, we need every General we can find.” Riordan explained heading to a small table in the room to grab an empty glass. 

Anora’s head flew to Elissa but the redhead was staring forward at Loghain. 

Riordan mixed the two vials together into a wine glass before stepped back closer to Loghain, “Your Majesty, I ask that you leave the room. The Joining can only been seen by Grey Wardens.”

“We have to drink a mixture of Darkspawn blood and Archdemon blood. We taint ourselves to fight our enemy.” Elissa explained, ignoring the furious look that passed over Riordan’s face. 

Anora’s mouth gaped open, her eyes dropping to the side of Elissa’s face and crossing the distance that separated the two. Completely ignoring the two other men in the room, “ _ What _ .”

“She knows the secret now. It doesn’t matter if she sees it or not.” Elissa attempted to ignore Anora, keeping her eyes forward. 

Riordan looked displeased but did not act. Looking back to Loghain, “Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that can not be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten. And that one day we shall join you."

“Drink.” Riordan offered the glass to Loghain. 

The Teyrn glanced from the glass to Elissa. The Warden’s green eyes burning as she reached behind her back to grip Fang’s hilt. Long seconds passed by before he grabbed the glass and drank the contents. 

Nothing happened for several seconds after Loghain drank the mix. Silence ranging over the room until Loghain’s body dropped like a heap. The glass rolling out of his hand and shattering to the ground below him. 

Cries and moans of pain spilled from Loghain’s mouth. His body clenching together tightly as the Darkspawn blood spilled into his body, entering his bloodstream. It felt as if his entire body was fire, rattling his brain within the contents of his skull. 

Anora’s back went tense, watching her father kick around on the floor. She painfully gripped her hands in front of her body, until her knuckles became white from the strain. 

Loghain’s body tensed one last time before going lax, the screams stopping as his body stopped moving. The silence returning to the room, Anora’s head snapping in between Riodarn and Elissa. 

The ranking Warden approached Loghain’s body. Kneeling down and pressing his fingers to the side of the man’s neck. Then reaching down to press his ear to the back of Loghain’s back. 

“He lives. His body has accepted the blood.” 

Elissa didn’t spare a moment, turning to the door and entering the hallway where the Grey Company waited for her, minus Alistair. 

Every head turned in her direction, sealing the door to the room behind her, “He survived the Joining. Wynne, can you…?”

“Of course.” Wynne offered a small nod of her head to the Warden and went to enter the room. 

“We should get our things from Eamon’s estate before he decides to kick us out.” Elissa motioned for the rest of the Company to follow her.

* * *

 

  
A balcony was attached to the Queen’s chamber. Offering a view for most of the City, it was one of the few quiet places Anora could find. 

The sun had long disappeared and the moon shined down over the Capital. She could make out the plums of smoke and flames coming from the direction of the Alienage. 

“Shianni is currently resting in a cell in Fort Drakon, Kylon reports.” Elissa’s voice broke Anora from her thoughts. 

Anora looked over her shoulder as Elissa came to stand next to Anora on the balcony. The Queen’s hands gripped the railing in front of her, eyes not looking in Elissa’s direction. 

“The Elder is working to make sure the rest of his people stand down, Kallian is helping in the effort with Kylon.” Elissa’s eyes were stuck forward, looking out at the City. 

“Why did you spare him?” Anora whispered out, looking up to Elissa. 

Anora’s blue eyes were fixed on the side of Elissa’s face, she knew tears were starting to boil behind her eyes. She had been so prepared to see her Father die today that now facing him being alive, Anroa didn’t know what she was supposed to feel. 

“Riordan invoked the Right of…”

“Elissa, you are the Kingmaker. No one would've blinked an eye if you had ignored Riordan. You decided to spare him.”

“It wasn’t up to me…”

Anora’s hand reached out to grasp Elissa’s forearm, pulling their bodies closer together, “Everything since the moment you entered Derniem has been up to you, Elissa. I was ready for him to die, I accepted it. A part of me welcomed it.”

Elissa turned her head to look down at Anora, “You asked me to give him a way to recover his honor.”

“ _ Elissa _ , what he did..”

“Look at what Howe did, what I did to him. What it made me into. Would you have prefered that, Anora? For me to slaughter him in front of the entire Kingdom? Whose life would it bring back? Would it make all the bad in this world go away?” Elissa’s voice was no higher than a whisper, attempting to blink away the tears that were forming in her eyes. 

“That’s what everyone thinks, isn’t it? If we slay Loghain, everything would just go back to normal. All it takes is one slash of my sword and everything will be better. Killing Howe didn’t bring back any normalcy, I doubt killing the Archdemon will magically make everything better again.  Loghain did what he did and he will spend the rest of his life living with his demons.”

“Eamon, the elves, half the Kingdom…”

“I remember during the fight when I let my rage control me. All I could think was that he caused all of this, that if I killed him right there in front of everyone it would  _ fix _ everything. But it wouldn’t, butchering him would do nothing but add another death.” Elissa finished softly. 

Anora wrapped one arm around Elissa’s waist and the other around the back of the redhead’s neck. Forcing Elissa’s head down to rest on her shoulder while Elissa hugged Anora tightly. 

“What is worst, Anora; being Loghain or being the woman who spared him?” 

“ _ Ellie.” _ Was all Anora could whisper out, hugging Warden fiercely to her. 

“Killing him would’ve been the easier thing to do, but now the question is if it was the  _ right _ thing to do.” 

The lovers fell silent, keeping their tight embrace and trying to enjoy the moment alone from the chaos that raged around them. 

“I thought you would be pleased to still have your Father.” Elissa whispered out. 

Anora’s body went stiff but didn’t pull away from Elissa, “I made a choice. Pick my Father or my subjects. I...I have failed throughout the past year. Do I be selfish and save the man that help caused all of this or do what was  _ right _ for the Kingdom and let him go.”

“I picked my sworn duty.” Anora added.

The Warden felt a moment of anger sparking in her stomach but it quickly dead when she brushed her cheek across Anora’s blonde hair. She wouldn’t put the fault on sparing Loghain onto Anora. 

It had been her that killed Howe.

And it had been her that spared Loghain from death. 

The question  _ ‘Do you think I did the right thing?’ _ lingered on Elissa’s lips.

* * *

 

The short lived riots had been thankfully put down without that much bloodshed. With Shianni arrested and now spending time in Fort Drakon, the other angry elves were silenced for the moment. With their Elder still staying loyal to the Crown. 

Kylon walked through the streets of the Alienage, patrols moved back and forth offering slatues to the de facto commander of the City Guard. 

Pausing in the main square of the Alienage, the Elder’s Hall was acting as the barracks of the City Guard companies that had been sent to assist in rebuilding the Alienage. 

His eyes were casted on the large tree that grew in the middle of the largest city in the Kingdom. The wood platform surrounding the base of the tree held a number of candles with different notes pinned to it. 

Drawings of different missing family members, supposed rumors of where the elf slaves had been sent to. 

Kylon was pleased that most were not willing to rise up and fight when news came down that Loghain had been spared a painful death by the Crown’s hand. Not because he was a stiff supporter of Loghain. 

Because he had little pleasure in fighting and killing other Fereldens. Especially not with a Blight waiting for the perfect moment to strike. 

The man was pulled from his thoughts by a familiar figure going to stand next to him. Kallian gave Kylon a small smile, “Sergeant.” 

“I told you to call me Kylon, Lady Kallian.”

“And I told you that I am not a Lady.” 

“Ah, well, I am a slow learner.” Kylon offered a soft smile to Kallian. 

The two fell into a comfortable silence as they looked around the Alienage Center, “Thank you for what you have done, Kylon.”

“And what did I do?”

“Many would’ve marched in here and killed anyone that dared to rise up.”

“That would solve little and Queen Anora would’ve taken my head for doing it.”

He could feel Kallian’s eyes lingering on the side of his face. Kylon turned raising a brow at the smaller elf, “Do you believe in the Queen?”

“Aye, as long as the Queen as the Warden and the Warden as the Queen. I believe that those two can bring this Kingdom from the depths it’s in.” 

“The two make a good team, don’t they? I was often in awe by them. The Queen especially. The woman commands such an authority without even trying.” 

“It almost sounds like you have a crush on the Queen.”

“Replace the Queen with the Warden and you’ll be correct.” Kallian said with a deadpanned face. 

Kylon’s mouth gaped open as Kallian simply shrugged, “At least I’m honest.”

Seeing Kallian’s smile in the low moonlight made Kylon’s heart beat that little bit faster. How the elf tucked strands of blonde hair behind her ear and looked away from Kylon. The smile look so natural on Kallian’s lips. 

It made Kylon wonder what Kallian was like before this Blight started. He knew in part what had happened to her in the depths of Howe’s estate. No one dared to ask questions about it. He wondered how much she smiled, if she ran with flowers in her hair. 

Though while Kylon was in thought he had completely missed what Kallian was implying about herself. 

“Come on, Valendrain had sent me to collect you in the first place.” Kallian nudged Kylon’s shoulder with her hand to bring the man back into reality. 

“We shouldn’t keep The Honorable Elder waiting then.”

“I do understand sarcasm, Guardsman.”

“It wasn't sarcasm, I swear!” Kylon grinned, the two joking back and forth contrasting against the rather bleak air that hung over the rest of the Alienage.

* * *

 

_ There was only one crossing large enough for the legions of Chevaliers to cross. Oswin’s bridge was the largest bridge without having to head all the way south into the Southern bannorns or heading north closer to West Hill. _

_ 5,000 heavily armored and mounted Chevaliers needed the quickest and easiest passage, leaving Oswin’s bridge as the only possible crossing.  _

_ With only 2,000 lightly armed rebels under his command, Loghain had to wait for the perfect moment to strike. There was the option to use the Legion of Dead resources to blow the bridge once enough had crossed over, leaving the two forces separated on either sides of the river.  _

_ But that option was too risky and without enough Dwarven bombs, it would prove pointless.  _

_ He decided to deploy the Legionaries as the main body of his center, the hardy dwarves were going to be the only ones that could hold the line against a Chevalier charge if it came to it.  _

_ With his skilled and deadly Night Elves making up the left wing of his army, the dwarves would have to hold long enough to allow his skilled longbowmen to destroy the Chevaliers.  _

_ Their only chance was going to be using the element of surprise once enough Chevaliers crossed the bridge. The bridge was only wide enough to allow two horsemen to ride side by side, meaning that the crossing would take near an entire day for the Chevaliers.  _

_ With wooded hills on the Ferelden side of the river, Loghain deployed spear and pike wielding soldiers to support his center and spread them across his wings. If he was able to wait until enough cross the bridge, and then ordered the attack, he could send shivers of fear down the Chevalier's spines.  _

_ The first banners of the Legions appeared on the horizon just after dawn. By mid morning, the vanguard of the Chevalier force appeared on the west side of the bridge. By noon, the main force had arrived and had started the crossing.  _

_ Loghain kept his troops well hidden, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.  _

_ Once a substantial number of troops had crossed over, roughly 1,500 by Logian’s counting, the General gave the order to attack.  _

_ The Chevaliers were caught completely off guard, the dwarven center supported by the Ferelden pikes cut through the Chevalier lines.  _

_ The Night Elves from the left flank rain down volley after volley of arrows onto the troops crossing the bridge.  _

_ Loghain lead from the center, surrounded by the few heavy infantry Ferelden had. The screams of the dying knights being pulled from their horses and brutally killed by the lightly armed soldiers. Without room to move, the Chevaliers had lost their advantage of being able to charge.  _

_ The entire Chevalier legions were in chaos, attempting to jump into the river to swim to safety, horses sending their rides flying off their horses and crushed to death beneath their hooves.  _

_ But Loghain was searching for only one person on the battlefield. Comte Raymond de Chatillon, the commander of the invading Chevailer Legions.  _

_ Loghain spotted the Comte from his set of heavy shining silverite armor. Cutting a line through the chaotic Chevalier lines, Loghain panicked the Comte’s horse and sent the nobleman flying from his horse.  _

_ The General didn’t even allow the commander a chance to defend himself. Climbing onto the Comte, he slammed the tip of his sword blade underneath the chin of the Orlesian commander. Blood sprayed the front of Loghain’s leather and chain armor.  _

_ Seeing the Comte’s banner falling from the center, the troops on the west side of the river begun an unorganized all out retreat.  _

_ The chaos of the battle spanned around Loghain, the center lead by the dwarves charged across the bridge to cut down the as many of the retreating Chevaliers. The screams of dying men reaching Loghain’s ears as sound, smell and sight mixed together in Loghain’s mind. _

* * *

 

Loghain woke suddenly from his dream. A thin layer of sweat covering his body. His head was pounding and his body felt like it was still on fire.

The memories of the Landsmeet came flying back to him, his eyes scanning around the dark room. 

“Don’t move so fast.” A gentle woman’s voice broke Loghain from his thoughts. 

Sitting in a chair just on the right side of Loghain’s bed was a familiar looking white haired woman. Wynne’s hair was pulled back into a tight bun, the dark Circle robes hanging over her form. 

With Loghain awakening, Wynne stood from her chair and leaned over the Teyrn’s body. Hands reaching the bandage wrapped around his thigh. 

It was then that Loghain noticed the white bandage wrapped around his thigh, “Where am I?”

“The Royal Palace. You were brought here after your Joining.” Wynne explained while she began to unroll the bandage to check on how the healing was going on his wound. 

The spirit magic had done its work well. The flesh around Loghain’s thigh was slowly regrowing and healing, a bright ugly red but fully closed. 

“The Warden, Anora…”

“Elsewhere I will assume. I was asked to watch over you.” Wynne retighten the bandage around Loghain’s thigh, causing the man to wince at Wynne's not so gentle handling. 

“Are you to be my guard then?” Loghain looked over to the mage. He wiggled up so that his back was resting up against the headboard of the bed. 

The usual gentleness Wynne held was not present. Eyes narrowing at Loghain, her jaw tighten, “Do not think I do this out of the kindness of my heart, Loghain. You might’ve been a hero in your youth but you are nothing close to what you were. If it had been me in Elissa’s place, you would be spending your last days at the mercy of the Elves who you tried to destroy.“

“If Elissa had not been present when I healed you, a mistake might of occurred and your femoral artery would’ve been magically cut.” 

“What’s stopping you now, eh?” Loghain blinked through Wynne’s threats. 

“Because they would know it was me. The option is still on the table if you wish to explore it, Loghain.”

Loghain rolled his head back to rest on the headpost of the bed, falling silent at Wynne’s narrowed eyes. 

“I remember you from Ostagar, Senior Enchanter Wynne.”

“I do not know if I should be impressed or disturbed that you remember me.” 

Loghain folded his hands into his lap, rolling his head to the side to look at Wynne. “How did you make it out alive?”

Wynne glanced up from the book she was reading. Marking the page she was on, she closed the book in her lap, “When the King’s banner fell in the center, the retreat was called. Myself and a few others were lucky enough to be with one of the larger groups that made it outlive. We make it back to Lothring before making our way back to the Circle.” 

Loghain nodded, turning his head back to stare forward at the door of the bedroom, “I have met only a few that survived Ostagar. I seek them out, listen to how they made it out alive. See their face, remember their story.” 

“I left 20,000 men to die, Senior Enchanter. Your petty threats are the least of my troubles.”

* * *

 

“Alistair! Alistair, please, just talk to me.  _ Please.” _ Leliana’s voice pleaded through the Alistair’s barred bedroom door. 

Alistair was frozen in the same spot he had been in for hours. Since the moment Eamon brought him back to the estate, locked in his bedroom with whatever liquor he could find. 

He was well into his 4th bottle of wine by the time the sun had dipped below the sky and the moon took it’s place. The estate was busy, he could hear the voices outside the hall throughout the day. 

He did not leave even when the other members of the Grey Company had came to get their things, not when Duran and Zevran tried to speak to him and most certainly not when Elissa tried to open the door. 

Leliana was the only one that stayed. He could see her shadow just on the other side of the door. Through the bottom slit, the bard still haven’t left yet, refusing too until Alistair said  _ something _ to her. 

The bastard Prince took a long swig from the bottle of wine instead of standing and opening the door. 

Elissa had become something more to Alistair. When he had first met her, he thought he had feelings for her. But it changed, Elissa was just  _ something else _ . They had formed a friendship forged in the darkest moments of their lives. 

She became a sister that Alistair had always wanted, a real friend that he had always wanted. Everyone in the Grey Company had become something like that to him, even the likes of Sten and Shale in their own ways. 

But Elissa was still different than all of them. Bar Leliana. 

It was Elissa that went with him to see his ‘sister’. She showed him that Family was who he picked, not bounded purely by blood. Alistair had picked Elissa to be his sister, picked Duran to be his brother. That was all that mattered, the bonds that you formed, not the ones forced upon you. 

She was one of the few people to ever offer Alistair a  _ choice _ . 

Just like Duncan had. 

To be a Grey Warden, a calling higher than even that of Templars or Seekers, to be the ward against a darkness so terrible. It had filled Alistair with a sense of duty that he had never felt before. 

The same feeling of shame that had plagued him since leaving earlier that day came back in full force. Being a Grey Warden had become what Alistair was, it was what felt right to him. He was a skilled Templar but the words always rang hollow to him. 

But taking the oath of the Grey Wardens, somber yet inspiring for all those who took it before him. 

And Alistair had given that all up in a span of a few passing seconds. But wasn’t it justified? Loghain becoming a Grey Warden, tainting that one thing that Alistair was ever allowed to choose, it was a disrespect to him, to Duncan, to the Order.

The Warden pressed his forehead to the cool glass of the wine bottle. If that was the simple truth of the matter then why did it still eat at him everyday? 

No matter how Eamon twisted the words to make it sound better than it actually was, what Alistair was doing was going against everything he once stood for and believed in. 

Leaving Elissa and the company in the last hours before the end made him no better than Loghain, the man he was supposed to hate. 

He wished Duncan was still here, the man would know what to do in this situation. Though if Duncan was still alive none of this past year would of happened in the first place. 

He loved Elissa like the sister he always wanted. Alistair couldn’t understand why the woman would leave Loghain to live. Never before had she acted with remorse for her actions. How many have they killed in the name of the Grey Wardens while trying to rally the armies of the treaties. 

Branka, Zathrian, Uldred, too many names and faces for Alistair to remember. 

Alistair noticed the change after the events at Howe’s Estate, how the woman carried herself. She was always distant from the others, only speaking to him and Duran at any length. Not that Alistair blamed her, he knew the full painful story of the reason she joined the Grey Wardens. 

Eamon had said that it was Anora that had tricked and played Elissa into allowing her Father to live. The Arl didn’t know Elissa like Alistair did, he saw how she acted after the Queen joined them. How she would steal glances at the Queen when she thought no one was looking.

Both of them had trusted Alistair and Leliana with their most guarded secret. He saw a glimpse of the  _ real _ Anora that morning in the sitting room. 

Just the mention of the redheaded woman’s name brought another extreme shot of pain to his gut. So hard in fact that it felt like he was being punched in the stomach. No, he knew why Elissa couldn’t kill Loghain.

But could he admit that answer out loud to himself? That was the true reason he fled, everything he had done in the past year was to get at the man he was supposed to hate. But seeing how weak Loghain looked, what killing Howe did to Elissa, just how tired Alistair was of everything; it made him  question everything he thought he stood for. 

_ ‘It’s not too late.’ _ A voice seemed to whisper in his head that sounded a lot like Duncan. 

“Who am I?” Alistair whispered out to the empty room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight change that Goldanna lived near Redcliffe and not Derniem like how it is in the game. 
> 
> “Alea iacta est.” (The die is cast) The supposed famous words spoken by Suetonius to Julius Caesar as he crossed over the Rubicon River into Northern Italy. 
> 
> Hard numbers and facts about the Battle of the River Dane was hard to come back so I attempted to echo from history using facts from the Battle of Stamford Bridge and the Battle of Stirling Bridge
> 
> I would say this is the end of "Act 1" if you want to go by that.


	11. Chapter 11

The gentle sound of water dripping from the ceiling rose the young boy from his white noise sleep. 

The rusty chains wrapped around his fragile wrists had long stuck a permanent red brand into his flesh. His dark brown hair had become long, reaching the tops of his thin shoulders. Matted with dirt and filth. The rags he wore were largely torn and hung on the boy’s skeleton. 

The gentle sound of water was soothing to the boy. He had long ago told his Brother how he found it soothing and assumed his Brother would do everything to stop it. 

But instead his Brother allowed it to stay, giving him the small pleasure.

The gentle sound of the dripping water was soon overshadowed by the sound of heavy leather boots hitting the stone hallway outside of his cell. 

The boy took a deep breath and looked up at the door. Waiting for the rusty key to be inserted in the lock and his Brother to greet him for the morning. He was the only one that was allowed to visit him, tucked away deep inside of the earth away from prying eyes. 

It was for his protection his Brother explained because if anyone knew he was down here they would try to hurt him. Use him against his loving Brother. 

The key turned the lock and soon the door to the cell was opened. His Brother was a decently sized tall man, his black hair styled to perfection. Clean shaved, he carried a chair in his free hand.

The door locked shut behind him, the boy’s head snapped back down to the ground while his Brother pulled the chair to sit in front of where the boy hung from his chains. 

“And how is my little brother today?” His Brother gave an affectionate ruff of his mud and filth covered hair. The older man took his seat in the chair afterwards, crossing one leg over the other. 

“G...good, Brother!” The boy tried to sound as upbeat as possible. He knew what would happen if he didn’t sound happy to see his brother. 

“Do you love me brother?” His Brother asked while he leaned back into the chair, producing a red apple from his pocket and taking a large bit out of it.

“O..of course, Brother. You have protected me from everyone else. Trained me to be stronger.” The boy’s voice was soft, shifting in his stance making the rusty chains jingle. 

The wet sound that followed his Brother’s canine like teeth sinking into the red apple caused a growl to escape from the boy’s stomach, he couldn’t remember the last time he had a piece of fruit. 

The man’s lips twisted into a smile, leaning forward, “Do you want a bite, Brother?”

The boy licked his lips, afraid to speak or to nod his head. His Brother’s free hand snaked around to grip the back of his neck, pulling his head forward closer to the apple, “I know you want to. It’s alright.”

The boy took a small bite of the apple, the sweetness tainting his lips before he took a much larger bite. The stiff apple was perfectly ripe for them being out of season. 

“Bad people are coming to get us, brother. And I want you to know that I won’t let them hurt you. Because that’s what Family does, isn’t it?”

The boy nodded his head vigorously, taking another large bite from the apple. 

“I am sorry that I have hurt you so badly in these past months, Brother. But you have to understand it’s been for your own good. To make you stronger.” 

“I know.” The boy replied in between his bites of apple. 

“Never forget, that I’ll always be your big Brother.” The man ruffled the boy’s messy hair again. 

All the while Thomas Howe’s lips twisted into a smile, watching the boy eat the apple out the palm of his hand.

* * *

 

Fergus woke late in the morning from his night of rest. His eyes lingering on Iona’s naked form peeking out from underneath the dark fur blankets of his bed. 

The blonde’s hair was a mess, her hand curling around the space Fergus had just been lying in, mumbling something in elvish in her sleep. The moving made the fur blanket drop lower along the side of the elf’s body. 

Iona turned in her sleep, showing her back to Fergus. The long defined line of her spine down to her back dimples. The fur blanket barely hiding the soft round swell of her ass. He had only awaken but could already feel the signs of lust building in the pit of his stomach. 

A sight that would usually drag Fergus back to the bed to wake Iona instead left Fergus quickly dressing and leaving Iona there to sleep. Suddenly the need for space and distance from Iona clouding any possible lustful thoughts. 

The main war camp was already starting to break up, with the different forces moving to their staging places in the hills and farmland surrounding Highever. The ones that remained would be the forces in the center alongside the troops Fergus had selected to sneak into the city during the late afternoon before dusk. 

The Teyrn walked through the rows of tents, men-at-arms and knights pausing to bow to Fergus as he passed. 

The man wasn’t used to the stares and looks he had started receiving once it was declared formally that he was still alive. He still hadn’t trim his hair back to the proper length he wore before the war, only going as far as to keep the stubble short and not into a full beard. 

The air was cool and the some of the trees were already starting to change color as the fast approaching autumn season was nearly upon them. The harvest would be weak this year, Fergus knew it. Howe had burnt too many fields to suppress the local Houses and common folk.

He knew that before the war Highever had a 3 year supply of grain for harsh winters and sieges. If Thomas had been smart, and what Fergus would’ve done if the situation was switched, he would’ve moved a large supply of that grain to Amaranthine. Only leaving enough for a short-lived siege.

Meaning that if Highever was lost the Howes would control the food supply for the entire region. A good bargaining chip. 

That was assuming Thomas had thought that far ahead. Fergus hoped to the Maker the supply hadn't been touched.

Fergus' eyes fell onto two familiar sights sitting around one of the many campfires that littered the war camp. The Teyrn joined the two men around the campfire, sitting down on an overturned log and cracking his neck. 

“Elf got you tired out again?” Gilmore grumbled, his eyes looking up from his bowl of breakfast. 

“You sound jealous, Roland.” Cedric dryly remarked. His hand moving a whetstone across the edge of his well used steel sword. 

Gilmore’s glare flicked over to Cedric, “How many times have I told you not to use that name?”

“Truthfully, I have lost count.” Cedric’s lips twisted into a smirk with his dry reply. 

Fergus chuckled which stopped Gilmore from taking it a step further. The warrior finished his bowl of stew and tossed the empty clay bowl to the side. Reaching for his battle axe and whetstone to sharpen the edge. 

The sounds of the weapons being sharpened drowned out the silent three men. Fergus going to pour himself a bowl of the breakfast stew. 

“Odd, isn’t it.” Cedric commented through the silence. 

“Aye.” Gilmore replied softly. 

For all three men returning to Highever meant something different. The months of fighting and starving coming down to the battle in a few hours time. 

It was to end of their struggle and Fergus could tell that none of them  _ knew _ what that meant. 

Fergus looked in between the two men. From Gilmore’s wild red hair and full beard to Cedric’s still neatly trimmed ginger hair and beard. Cedric still wore the same plate armor since they had left for Ostagar nearly a year ago while Gilmore more a mix of chain and leather lined with fur. 

“Any news of Bann Warwick’s troops?” Fergus broke the silence, eating a mouthful of the hot stew. 

“Day and half march from Highever. Our scouts are harnessing their baggage train, if we’re lucky it would be two days until they appear.” Gilmore answered, going back to dragging the whetstone across the axe head. 

“Meeting him on the field will not go well.” Cedric said. 

“Any news of the army in Highever? Scouting parties, raiding parties, anything at all?” Fergus asked.

“Nothing from the different camps. They have been sending runners to keep in contact. Howe is too focused on this party.” Cedric answered.

“Doesn’t make sense to me, Fergus. He knows we’re coming, just not from where. Why isn’t he out scouting?” Gilmore spoke up from his axe sharpening.

“Could be waiting for Warwick’s force. He knows he has us outnumbered, maybe he’s over confident. Waiting for to ensure Warwick’s loyalty.”

“When Thomas Howe’s head is on a pike for Bann Warwick’s viewing pleasure it won’t matter. He’ll bend the knee or I’ll make him.” Gilmore snorted out, looking up to glance in between Fergus and Cedric. 

“Fergus can’t rule over burnt wheat fields and empty keeps.” A new female voice turned all three heads in the same direction.

Iona had finally awaken and dressed. Wearing a long leather coat with matching pants underneath, a fur lined cloak around her shoulders to keep the cold out. The elf took her spot next to Fergus, glancing in between the three men. 

Gilmore mumbled something under his breath but Cedric nodded his head in agreement, “You’re right, Lady Iona. But someone has to pay for what happened. The Bann is marching in the name of  _ Thomas Howe _ .”

“We all know his blind sense of fealty bind him to serve Thomas.” Fergus countered. 

Gilmore chuckled, “Maybe if we take the stick out of his ass then.”

“If it as we hope and Highever grain supplies are still high, Bann Warwick and the others will not have much of a choice on whom to serve.” The elf explained. 

Fergus sent a glance in the direction of his lover. Iona only catching Fergus' eye for a moment before breaking eye contact. He didn’t like the thought of using  _ the only supply of food _ to force fealty over his birthright. 

“T..that’s quite a setmentient, Lady Iona.” Cedric attempted to sound as neutral as possible. 

Iona noticed the look coming from Fergus and shook her head, “It’s simply a..fall back plan of sorts. I believe if we are able to capture Howe and his key minor Lords, the others will bend and fall easily.”

“Has there been any news from the capital yet? The outcome of the Landsmeet.” Fergus decided to quickly change the topic. 

“None. I will assume news will arrive in the coming days by raven or rider. Are you worried about…?” Iona trailed off, looking back to Fergus. 

“If my sister has actually done what everyone said she’s done, marshalled this army of every race and background, I have no doubt she lived through the Landsmeet., I simply wish to know if my sister is now Queen.” There was dry humor laced in Fergus' tone. 

“I doubt it. Anora and Elissa were always  _ the best of friends _ .” Gilmore spoke again after falling silent during the talk of politics. 

Fergus' head snapped up, hazel-green eyes narrowing at the knight. Cedric put his head back down to the sword in his lap while Iona glanced in between Fergus and Gilmore, “And what do you mean by that.”

“Oh come off it, Iona. You were a Lady-In-Waiting surely…”

“That’s enough,  _ Ser Roland _ .” Fergus hissed out. 

Gilmore’s eyes locked with Fergus, the redhead snorting and shaking his head, “Aye,  _ Your Grace _ .”

“We will be breaking camp soon. Enjoy the last moments of quiet. Cedric, find me later.” Fergus nodded in the knight’s direction before quickly standing and heading back to his tent.

* * *

 

Thomas sunk deeper into the tub of fresh hot water. The tub was a bit on the small size, meaning that a good portion of his legs hung out on the other side but the young Lord didn’t mind. 

With a glass of fine red wine in his right hand, a half naked redheaded elf servant washing his hair. It would almost be perfect if it wasn’t for the two armored Lords standing just a few feet away attempting to not look at Thomas’s naked body. 

“B..Bann Warwick has sent news, my Lord. His troops will be delayed another day.” Lord Aurelius tried to fill the silence, not understanding why they had been summoned during Thomas’s bathing session. 

Aurelius and Marcus waited for the erratic anger from Thomas but instead the Lord only giggled, sipping from his glass of wine, “More wine, my dear.”

The elf dropped the wet rag back into the tub. Leaning over to the small table where the pitcher of wine stood, she filled Thomas’s glass again and then went back to the washing. 

“My Lords, you seem so tense. I think you need to find yourselves a servant to pass the time. Your fear is annoying me.” While Thomas’s tone was starting to drip into anger, his body was still relax, sipping from his refilled wine glass. 

“Your Grace, we don’t even know where the Cousland Army is! The scouts are reporting that they have tracked columns marching in every which direction…”

“And with Fergus Cousland returning from the grave there’s rumors of the common folk flocking to his banner.”

“Are you afraid of peasants with pitchforks when I command 8,000 men, some 1,000 heavy armed cavalry?” 

The two Lords glanced in between each other, not wishing to answer that question directly. Both had reserves, Rendon could control his youngest but with the man dead there was no one to keep a control on Thomas’s rash actions. 

Delilah had quickly bent to her youngest brother and Nathaniel was beyond their reach. 

“And where is the Cousland Army?” Thomas asked with a raised brow. Looking in between the two Lords, wine glass pressed to his lips.

Thomas already knew the answer. Fergus was masking his true number of forces. He could number into the thousands or have barely 700 men.

“We do no…”

“And how many men does Fergus Cousland command?” Thomas spoke over Marcus, sipping from his glass of wine. 

“Your Grace, we know…”

“You two know nothing. You two have always known nothing and yet you both stand here attempting to say you do know everything. Leave me, I’ll see you both later tonight at the party.” Thomas dismissed them with a wave of his hand. 

While Marcus bowed and went to take a step back, Aurelius had narrowed his eyes at Thomas. The young Lord Howe looking up to the man, “Is there something you didn’t understand by that order, Lord Aurelius?”

Before Aurelius could speak, the half naked elf servent giggled and wrapped her arms around Thomas’s neck, “Ignore him, my Lord. Nothing he can say will matter anyways.”

Thomas’s stiff upper lip curled into a smile, taking another swig of his wine while the elf kissed the side of his neck, “You could learn a thing or two about servitude from my dear Riley here.”

Marcus placed his hand onto Aurelius’s shoulder, snapping the young man from his momentary lapse of judgement. He instead gave a deep bow and exited the room with Marcus. 

“I don’t know why I put up with them, my dear.” Thomas sighed, leaning his back against the wall of the tub. 

“I do not know either, my Lord. You are too good for them.” Riley whispered into his ear, playfully nipping at his earlobe. 

“Flattery will get you everywhere in life, Riley.” Thomas placed the glass of wine up on the table next to the tub. 

“And where does sucking your cock nightly get me?” 

“Everything, my dear, everything.” 

Riley giggled again, as Thomas quickly stood from the tub and went pulling the redhead elf into the bedroom.

* * *

 

By late morning the war camp had been mainly broken with a small reserve force staying to guard the carts and pack animals. Fergus had followed the forces of Stuart and the other Stormlords to the far left flank. 

It was only a few hours march from the camp to the outskirts of Highever. Fergus was rather surprised that they hadn’t been discovered yet, not this close to the City. 

Fergus and the Couslands knew the land well, knowing where they could hide their army, but it was still near 4,000 men. 

It was almost as if Thomas did  _ know _ they were waiting just a half day’s march. According to the scouts, barely any soldiers had been sent scouting from Highever’s gates. Leaving the Cousland force to move freely through the surrounding countryside. 

But there was no attacks, no preemptive strikes, no night raids on Fergus’ spread out camps. It was careless, leaving Fergus wondering what Thomas did know and what he didn’t know. 

It troubled and nagged at the edges of Fergus’ mind. How many times had they slipped up? How easily would it been for Howe to attack the isolated warcamps?

Ser Cedric and namely the survivors all the way from Ostagar made up the bulk of the force that was to sneak into the City. While Fergus would’ve prefered to taken Gilmore with him too, he knew that Bruce would need the support in commanding the center. 

Iona and a few of her own spies had slipped into the city earlier that day and with each hour passing closer to dusk, Fergus found himself growing more silent. 

The tall white walls of Highever was everything he remembered them as. The sight of Castle Cousland sitting above the rest of the City brought a painful throb to Fergus' heart. Like a hand reaching into his chest and squeezing his heart tightly. 

This was his  _ home _ and he was finally here. 

Like much of the coast, dense woods surrounded Highever, with a half mile radius around the walls having been cleared centuries ago to make defense of the city easier. It meant that the company Fergus had taken with him could hide easily in the woods while the rest of the army held off a few miles away

All the men he had left to die in the Wilds, the long march back to Highever, the months of biting his tongue, fighting against his own want to march on Highever and challenge Thomas Howe to single combat. 

Ser Cedric silently joined Fergus. The two men looking on Highever in a comfortable silence. It was the real reason why Fergus had only selected those who had been with him since the beginning. Because this simple sight of just  _ seeing _ Highever and Castle Cousland meant more than what words could begin to describe. 

The sun had slowly set behind the cliffs and the deep blue sea in the far distance. Dark storm clouds were slowly making their way to the coast, by the time the battle would start, that storm would begin to hit Highever. 

Fergus was pulled from his thoughts when the familiar sight of Iona appeared from the woods. A small collection of elf servants following her, “It’s time, the passage is open.” 

The Teyrn gave a silent nod, slipping the silver helm onto his head and tightening the strap. All around the forest clearing, the 40 veterans mimicked Fergus, coming in close to where the Teryn stood. 

“Everything has lead to this moment, men. Go with all fighting will of the free peoples of Highever. Tonight, we take back our home. Tonight, we avenge the Sacking of Highever.” 

There was no loud cheer, only the men carrying themselves higher. They had been chosen for this reason exactly. 

“Iona, send runners to Gilmore, Stuart and Bann Reinhardt. It’s time to start moving the soldiers into place.” Fergus spoke over to the blonde elf as his company started for the woodline. 

With night covering them, they could leave the cover of the dense woods and into the open flat land that surrounded Highever’s walls. They would be cloaked in the darkness and the moonless night, the clouds covering any possible dark moving figures the guards on the walls could see. 

It was faster to cross the dark fields surrounding Highever and to dip back into the dense woods rather than moving the long way through the woods. 

The large wooden trap door that usually was covered by thick layers of dirt and rock was waiting open for them. A pair of Iona’s elves waited for them. 

Ser Cedric lead the way into the dark long tunnel while Fergus stood off to the side aiming to be one of the last ones in. Iona came to stand next to him alongside another one of Iona’s spies inside of the city. 

A pretty elf girl with curly red hair and a pair of bright green eyes, “Lord Howe has already been drinking well through the day, Your Grace. The only two that you should worry for is Lord Marcus and Aurelius.”

“This is Riley, Fergus. Howe’s personal servant.” Iona explained. 

Fergus scanned up and down the elf, sending a glance in Iona’s direction but nodding his head, “What of the others?”

“Tense, drunk and most with their pants around their ankles. Or at least pretending to, Lord Howe did not want any ‘depression’ during his party.”

“Very well, Riley. Go on ahead and find Ser Cedric.” Fergus dismissed Riley, looking back to Iona. 

They were the only ones left, with the rest of Fergus' company already taking the long walk through the underground passage. 

“Run back to Gilmore and stay with him.”

“I am coming with you, Fergus.”

“You’re not, Iona.”

The elf stepped closer to Fergus. Her hand going to grip the top of his breastplate, pulling the man closer to her, “I did not drag myself from Highever and all these months to allow you to order me away.”

Fergus shoved Iona back with his strength, sending Iona stumbling a step back, “Go. I have to do this alone.”

“You’re not the only one that lost something that night, Fergus.” Iona hissed out, blue eyes burning red. 

Fergus watched Iona stormed off into the darkness. Only a coldness setting into his bones as he turned to head down into the passage. 

He couldn’t help but wonder what Elissa must felt fleeing that night down this passage. The others were still in view ahead Fergus but the Teyrn walked alone in the back. The darkness of the passage swirling around him. The light from the lanterns too far ahead to spill any good amount of light on Fergus' vestige. 

He knew sending Iona away was the wrong thing to do. He didn’t want her to see what they were about to do. Having her that close would only blind Fergus, it wouldn’t help the storming thoughts locked away inside of his head. 

Nor going back to the place where the ghosts of his past haunted him. 

The fingers on his left hand traced across the cold stone wall. He remembered so many times as a child him and Elissa would come down here to play and hide. Mother always yelled at them when they disappeared like that but Father always thought it was good for them to know how to get to the secret passage.

* * *

 

The sky was moonless over the City of Highever. Yet another heavy rainstorm blew off the coast, hammering the white walls of the city. Thick fat droplets fell to the ground with loud and cracking lightning strikes in the distance. The only thing that was missing was the powerful winds and they would have a full blown storm on their hands. 

Gilmore grunted when he felt the first few drops of rain. Looking up to the night sky through the thick trees above him, the few drops of water that escape the tall evergreens covered his thick long red hair. 

His hazel eyes scanned left and right. All along the edge of the thick forest that emptied out to the walls of Highever, he could see the kneed outlines of his men. A vanguard force of the center infantry line were scattered across the treeline. Lord Mac Ritcher wasn’t far, speaking to a few of his knights as everyone tried to enjoy the quiet. 

The rest of the Highland force rested deeper in the force, awaiting for the signal to charge into the city. Which would be followed up by Ser Stuart and the Houses of the Stormcoast while Bann Reinhardt’s forces guarded the rear from any unexpected counter attack. 

Gilmore sat alone, away from the others and closer to the treelines so his unflinching stare on Highever would not be broken. His wild red head and beard was slowly becoming drenched in rain, but the former knight didn’t notice it. 

When he laid down at night, he could remember the screams from that night. The Howe soldiers and knights butchering his own men in their beds. The brutal close quarters fighting as the Castle burnt all around him. 

Seeing Highever again, being this close to ending it all, it brought back every repressed memory and feeling from the past year. 

Gilmore turned to the side as a smaller female figure inched closer. A bow rested in her hand with a quiver on her back. Dressed in a set of chain and leather, her usual blonde hair was covered by a thick hood to keep the rain out. 

He knew the look on Iona’s face, the barely repressed anger tinting her usual pale cheeks. Taking a knee next to Gilmore, her face turned in the direction of Highever.

“I never thanked you.”

Iona glanced over her shoulder to Gilmore. The two friends holding each other stares for a passing second until they looked back to Highever, “For what?”

“If I had been you, I would’ve left me to die, bleeding out on the floor. Saved myself and disappeared.”

“Not very knightly of you.” Iona mumbled sarcastically.

“Thank you, Iona.” Gilmore whispered out.

Iona didn’t have a smart comeback to that. Falling into silence again next to Gilmore, only giving a small soft sigh, “I think it’s more than even.”

“He sent you away?”

Iona’s eyes narrowed on Highever in the distance, “He only cares for his own pain.”

The redhead nodded at Iona, resting the metal pommel of his axe into the mud next to him, “How much longer you reckon?”

“If he listens to my spies, it’ll be slow. Slip out of the castle kitchens, capture the gatehouse, send a small group down to the gates while attacking Thomas.” The Elf whispered in response, planting one armored knee into the mud and watched the walls in the distance. 

“I can’t stand the waiting. Every moment we get closer to ending this, the more I want it.”

“We still have Amaranthine to deal with.” Iona glanced over towards Gilmore. 

“Once we have Thomas’s head Marcus and Aurelius will flee. Then we can finally march to Denerim and finish this Blight.” Gilmore’s hand moved up to rest on the wicked looking axe head. 

“It will be..odd. To have this all over.” 

“That’s just because you fancy my beard and will miss seeing it every day.” The man gave a small chuckle, winking over towards the Elf. 

“It’ll be nice not to have to sleep in a tent anymore.” The archer mused. 

Silence fell in between the two. The only sound came from the passing figures of soldiers sending messages up and down the line alongside the sound of the heavy storm raging around them.

There came the sound of bodies moving behind them, Gilmore turned his head slightly to see a few members of the vanguard force moving closer as the time seemed to drag on. 

Finally, from the battlements on the wall that surrendered Highever they could see figures appearing, waving torches back and forth. It took Gilmore a few seconds to see them through the storm that was raging about them.

He turned towards one of the men and grabbed them by the front of the man’s shirt, “Run over the ridge and tell them to start moving. The gates will be opened within minutes.”

Once the former knight had dropped his grip, the messenger went running off through the forest as Gilmore stood. All along the edge of the forest the 100 or so men did the same. 

Gilmore took up a light jog from his hiding spot, a steady line of men appearing from the forest and entering the clear field that hugged Highever’s walls. It took only a few short seconds for the main gates to Highever to ease open as Gilmore’s vanguard neared it. 

Pausing for a moment near the gates and hurrying his men inside, he could see from both the ridge that overlooked the left side of Highever and from the lines of the forest, the coming lines of the main Loyalist force. It was time to finally take back their seat. 

Stepping over the slain bodies of the gate guards, Gilmore scanned over the faces of the men that had sneaked into the City earlier that day to open the gate. His nostrils flared with annoyance, “Where is he?”

One of the soldiers shook his head, “Still in the castle, Ser.”

Gilmore’s hand wrapped tightly around the shaft of his axe, sending a glance over towards Iona before looking back to the soldier, “Remember, only kill those who resist. Capture the barracks, the noble estates and the armory.”

Gilmore didn’t bother for a response, taking up a much faster run now, with Iona next to him and the rest of his men following after. They weaved through the still sleeping streets of the City, they could hear the army reaching the gates now as the City was slowly risen from it’s sleep. 

“Remember, do not stop for anything! We must reach the Castle before they raise the drawbridge.” Gilmore yelled over his shoulder. 

Gilmore ordered his men to start breaking off into smaller groups to avoid bunching up. He only needed a few groups to reach the Castle, not all of them. With Iona and another handful with him, Gilmore took the most direct route to Castle Cousland. 

The reached the top of the hill that Castle Cousland rested on and that Highever was built around. Taking one glance over his shoulder, he could see the tide of black masses suring through the gate and now the sound of fighting even reaching the main Keep. 

Gilmore seemed to be in luck, the drawbridge was still lowered. Allowing Gilmore, Iona and their party to cross and enter Castle Cousland for the first time since they retreated from it months ago. 

Dead soldiers were scattered around the main courtyard that the drawbridge and gatehouse spilled out into. They bore the sigils of House Howe which was a good sign that their allies still yet live. 

The sound of fighting could be heard coming from the main hall. Those same duel oak doors that month's previous Gilmore nearly gave his life defending. His soldiers moved around him, going to open the doors while Gilmore gripped his axe in both hands and Iona notched an arrow into her bow. 

The doors were flew open and the sight of the main hall greeted them. Four long tables stretched vertical from entrance to the end of the hall where a small raised platform stood where another table stood. 

There was a number of bodies face down on the table. As if they had their throats slit after passing out drunk after a night of drinking. A small skirmish still going on, a few lingering Howe soldiers being cut down by Cousland men. They still seemed to be operating under the element of surprise for the moment.

It was a bloodbath. Bodies lined the floor, the chairs and the tables. Hosting a number of different wounds, either their throats slit or heads smashed in. 

Engaged in a small fight near the doors, Gilmore watched as the Ser Cedric slammed his longsword into the side of the Howe Men-At-Arm’s knee before slicing his blade upwards to cleave through the bottom of the man’s neck. 

Taking a moment to glance to his left, he used his free hand to lift his visor upwards, “Ser Gilmore.”

“Where’s everyone else?”

“Fighting through the rest of the Castle. Caught the bastards just like how we planned. Just like how they did to us months ago. The only soldiers left in the Keep are Thomas Howe’s personal guard.” Cedric motioned towards the few that were laying face down into their plates of food. 

“Hold the gatehouse and the main hall. Iona and I have some business to take care of.” Gilmore knew where he would find their lost long friend. 

Taking the door out towards the left, there was a few lingering Cousland soldiers taking care of a few drunk and sleeping Howe men-at-arms but otherwise stayed on the path that lead upwards towards where the Cousland Family had once slept. 

The sound of fighting was becoming louder all around them in the Castle. Screams of dying men, the war cries, the clinging of steel, it reminded Gilmore much of the last time he had been in the Castle. 

In front of them a number of Howe men-at-arms stumbled from their barrack rooms, still trying to make sense of what was going on. Iona’s bow came to life, getting off two arrows while Gilmore in all his glory charged forward screaming, “Goirea gu brath!” 

His axe head kneecapped one of the unsuspecting soldiers, twisting and pulling the man dropped to the ground clutching the mess of flesh and bone that was his knee. He was swiftly silenced with Gilmore’s axe smashing downwards into his unprotected skull.

Blood and brain matter sprayed across Gilmore’s body and face. His ginger colored hair becoming stained with the dark red of blood, there was more Howe soldiers running towards them. Lifting the dripping red axe over his head, he screamed once more and charged forward as Iona let arrow after arrow loose from her recurve bow. 

Using the tight pathway to his advantage, Gilmore’s axe smashed into the chain shirt of the first soldier. The steel axe head cleaving through the thin metal like butter from Gilmore’s pure strength. Twisting and spinning his body, Gilmore tore the axe head out of the dying soldier's stomach and smashed the axe into the ribcage of another charging soldier. 

In the small space left, Iona moved forward, sending an arrow flying that slammed into the upper chest of another soldier that had gotten close to Gilmore while he was busy. With his axe head buried into the stomach of the dying soldier, Gilmore used his great strength to push and smash the soldier against the wall. Moving his armored left hand up, his steel covered fists smashed repeatedly into the soldier’s face. 

Standing away and pulling the axe out of the man’s rib cage, the soldier’s body stumped down to the ground. A pool of blood scattered on the stone floor, staining the leather boots both warriors wore. 

There was a smaller courtyard that lead upwards to the Cousland Family chambers. It was there the last of the loyal Howe men-at-arms were trying to hold off the horde of Cousland Loyalists. Even the Castle servants had taken up fallen weapons to attack the Howe soldiers. 

Gilmore surged forward towards the nearest Man-At-Arms. He watched as the soldier finished running through one of the unarmed servants to only see the tall hulking near barbarian looking man swing the backside of his axe straight as the dead servant body dropped to the ground. 

The pike on the back side of the axe cleaved clean through the bridge of the guard’s nose. The steel pike make a large round hole in the otherwise white flesh. Gilmore could hear the other Howe soldiers backing up, the fighting slowly to a stop as they watched him. 

Pulling the pike head out, Gilmore flipped the axe around and while the body was dropping to the floor, Gilmore swung downwards, the actual axe head cleaving the top of the man’s skull, breaking bone and brain. 

More blood and sweat covered Gilmore’s face now, breathing hard as he scanned around him. The remanding Howe soldiers were looking in between each other, their weapons shaking at the sight of the fearless and brutal Highland men. 

“Drop you weapons.” Gilmore’s voice came out deep and dry, motioning with his left hand for his soldiers to come closer.

It only took a few seconds before the sound of weapons dropping to the stone ground started to echo through the courtyard. Arms raised up into the air in surrender.

Gilmore moved back slightly, allowing the Cousland men to come closer. Moving the axe up onto his shoulder he started to chuckle quite loudly, “Kill them.”

The surrendering men only had a few passing moments before the combined group fell on them. Being stabbed, hacked, smashed, the Cousland soldiers stood back, allowing the Elven and Human servants their own revenge on the men that had spent the past year terrorizing them. 

“Secure the rest of the Keep. Kill any of Howe’s men and then assist Ser Cedric hold the gatehouse.” Gilmore issued orders out towards the Cousland soldiers before he rested his axe up onto his shoulder and headed towards the Cousland rooms. 

The way to the old nobility rooms were lined with bodies of Howe soldiers and servants that had seemed to fight back. 

The usual banter between the warrior and the elf was silent, both seemingly lost in memories of their time at Highever. For Iona, it was remembering the night they had lost Highever, waking up to the screams of horror, a part of her was pleased by the bloodshed they were able to inflict on the sleeping Howe men. 

For Gilmore, it was remembering the entire life he had spent as a Knight walking these halls. The contrast to the boy that had died the night of Howe’s attack between the man he had become now. Gilmore knew he couldn’t go back to what he was, the months had changed him too much. A small part of Gilmore wished he could, go back to before any of this happened. 

But thoughts like that would only drive Gilmore out of his mind. He had chosen his way forward; through fire and blood. 

There were less bodies as they entered the Cousland wing. Wearing plate armor with the Howe sigil over the chest[;ate, Gilmore knew a few as Howe’s trusted battlefield commanders and pet attack dogs. 

Exiting through the last hallway, the door was open to the Teyrnir’s rooms. Just in front of the doorway stood Thomas Howe. His short curly black hair and ice blue eyes staring forward. One hand resting on a boy standing in front of him and a long curved dagger pressed to his neck. 

It took Gilmore several moments to realize who Thomas was pressing the dagger to; Oren

The leather and chain the Teyrn wore was covered in blood, the longsword even dripping with the crimson substance from all those he had killed to reach Thomas. Gilmore could see Fergus' fingers rolling and flexing along the hilt of the blade.

The sound of Thomas laughing echoed through the entire room, “Now, let’s not do anything hasty here. We wouldn’t want poor Oren here to get hurt.”

Thomas’s hand patted the boy's shoulder gently, a visible shake appearing over Oren, his eyes fixed on his father. 

“Big Brother, what’s going on?” Oren looked up at Thomas, looking inbetween him and Fergus. 

This was never a part of the plan, Oren was supposed to be dead, Gilmore could see the emotion rolling off of Fergus. What they had planned changed the moment Oren was found alive. 

“Why is he calling you that?!” Fergus' voice boomed through the room, taking another step closer. 

Oren pushed his back closer into Thomas’s front. Thomas’s hand rested gently on Oren’s shoulder, squeezing the thin shoulder, “Because we are Family. Oren and I.”

“What sick fucking gam…”

“Why is the man yelling, Brother?”

“Stop calling him that! Don’t you remember who I am. It’s Fergus, your Father!” Fergus pleaded.

Oren’s wide eyes were snapping back from Fergus and up to Thomas. Realization passed across Oren’s face, stepping away Thomas but close enough for Thomas to keep his hand on Oren’s shoulder. 

“You! You…! You left me here! You left me to die. Me and Mother! If it wasn’t for Thomas..!” Tears were streaming down Oren’s cheeks, emotion rocking the boy’s shoulders. 

“Seems to me that someone’s been a poor fatherrrrr.” Thomas sang from behind Oren. 

“What did you do to him!”

“I have done nothing but showed him Family.” 

“You sick motherfucker. You…”

Thomas brought the dagger close back to Oren’s throat, “Do you wish to finish that thought, Fergus?”

“B..brother?”

“Be quiet, Oren.”

“He doesn’t have to die, Thomas.” Fergus' voice finally whispered out, eyes settling on the young erratic Lord.

“Quite right, Fergus. He doesn’t  _ have _ to die. Swear to me you will allow me to walk out of here and I will disappear from Ferelden forever. Simple deal.” A smile graced Thomas’s life, using the hand that was on Oren’s shoulder to ruffle the boy’s hair affectionately. 

Gilmore wanted to speak up, like hell they would let any member of the Howe household to live after what they did to Highever and the Couslands. Gilmore’s eyes flashed to the side of Fergus' face but the rightful Teyrn’s attention was fixed on his son. The son that he had spent months morning. 

Licking his lips, Fergus had to shut his eyes slightly to calm the emotions running through him. The only thing that drove him through the ruins of Ostagar was to get back to Highever, the only thing that had drove him the past months through the fighting was to avenge his dead wife and son. Was he prepared to allow the creature that caused so much pain to flee to simply have his son back?

“I swear it.” Fergus said simply, eyes opening and motioning with his left arm for Thomas to let the boy go. 

A full smile graced Thomas’s lips, “Perfect.”

He moved the long dagger from Oren’s neck and gave the boy a small push, “Go along, Oren. Run to your Father.” 

The boy seemed confused, looking in between Thomas and Fergus like a lost puppy. Gilmore could only picture what Thomas had spent the months doing to Oren.

“B...brother?” Oren whispered, looking up at Thomas with wide eyes. 

“Never forget what I said, Oren. We’ll always be Family.” Thomas smiled at the boy, motioning him off. 

But finally Oren started taking long steps towards Fergus' outstretched arms. 

All three should've known that after all the pain, there was only going to be more. 

After only a few steps taken by Oren, the smile twisted into a snarl on Thomas’s face. Flicking the dagger up, he took a step forward and sent the dagger flying through the air.

Everything seemed to slow down. Gilmore charged forward to save Oren, the sad smile that had formed on Fergus' face twisted into pain as he tried to run forward to get to his son. Iona hurried to notch an arrow and send it hurling towards Thomas. 

None of the three were fast enough to beat fate. The dagger slammed into the frail boy’s back. It was long cleave through the center of his back and slicing through his upper chest. Just In time for him to drop into Fergus' arms, just in time for Iona’s arrow to slam into Thomas’s shoulder and just in time for Gilmore to shift and head straight towards Thomas.

The howl of Thomas’s laughing was only overshadowed by the pure sound of pain that escaped Fergus' lips. Cradling his dying son in his arms, his longsword had been thrown to the side in an attempt to catch Oren. Up close now, Fergus could see Oren’s mauled and scarred face, how small the boy was, how unhealthy pale he was. 

Oren was shaking, blood staining Fergus' hands and arms. The boy brought a small hand upwards, shaking to grip the front of his Father, “H..he said you would never come back for me.”

Oren’s voice was shallow, his breaths becoming less and less. Tears dripped freely from Fergus' eyes, his larger hand gently clasping his son’s and brought him closer to his chest, “I am so sorry, Oren.”

The Teyrn’s eyes never left his son’s, only taking a few seconds more for Oren’s breathing to stop and his eyes gently shutting for the last time. Fergus' body bent over his son’s, hugging Oren’s body to his chest and sobbed into the boy’s hair. Fergus' entire body rocking with cries. 

Gilmore’s leather boot slammed into Thomas’s stomach as Iona moved forward with another arrow notched into her bow, pointed straight down at the man. 

But even with an arrow sticking out of his shoulder Thomas couldn’t keep himself from laughing and laughing. Contrasting the sobbing of Fergus from just across the room. 

Fergus' vision was smeared and blinded by his salty tears. Eyes red already, he moved up to unclasp the cloak he wore and laid it over Oren’s body. 

Standing, he moved towards where Thomas was howling with laughter. Gilmore and Iona parted to the side, watching as Fergus snapped the shaft of the arrow, letting the Howe give out a loud groan of pain. 

Fergus' hands flew downwards and gripped the front of Thomas’s tunic. Fueled with a never seen before anger, the Cousland lifted the man up and slammed him painfully into the doorway. His knee moving up to slam repeatedly into Thomas’s stomach. 

The force of the beating made Thomas drop to the ground. Gripping Thomas’s head by his hair, Fergus brought his knee in over and over again, cracking Thomas’s nose and cheekbones into a pool of blood and mess. 

21 times. Gilmore counted each strike into Thomas’s face and head. 21 times Fergus striked Thomas until finally the man moved back. Thomas still barely alive, leaning up against the doorway. Gilmore could see Fergus' hands shaking uncontrollably. 

“Find the darkest and lowest cell for him. We will deal with him later.” Fergus' voice was cold and emotionless. Turning away from Thomas and moved back to Oren.

The months had changed all of them, Fergus looked nothing like the man that had left for Ostagar. And now, he looked even worse, that look in his eyes that nearly made both Gilmore and Iona to stop and ask if he was okay. 

A hollow question, they both knew it. 

Gilmore moved the axe to rest on his shoulder, moving to grasp Thomas by the back of his shirt and started to half drag him through the hallway with Iona making sure he didn’t attempt to try anything. 

Both watched as Fergus kneeled down and gently lifted up Oren’s body.

* * *

 

The walk back to the main hall was silent. With soldiers and knights alike pausing and kneeling at the presence of Fergus walking through, eyes going to the bundle he carried in his arms and Thomas Howe being dragged half beaten.

When they entered the main hall, the quiet talking stopped. Gilmore could see a number of captured Thomas’s commanders from inside of the City. It seemed they had taken it with only a small amount of bloodshed.

There was the gathered Cousland commanders, but each seemed fixed upon Fergus. The man going to rest the body of his son on the raised table while Gilmore pushed Thomas over towards the rest of the captured commanders. 

It was Ser Cerdic that finally broke the silence, “Your Grace, Highever has been taken. Howe’s commanders have offered a formal surrender.”

Fergus moved back the cloak that covered Oren’s face, running his fingers through his son’s hair for the last time, “He had my son this entire time.”

Silence filled the hall once more. If Thomas could laugh, he would be. The other soldiers and knights seemed to be trying to look anywhere that wasn’t where Fergus was. 

Finally Fergus moved the cloak back over his son and turned to face the packed hall. He scanned over the faces, Knights and soldiers that had been with him from Ostagar. Farmers and common people that had flocked to their banner to resist Thomas’s rule. Minor Lords and Ladies that had chosen honor over gain. 

Fergus' hands cupped behind his back, his eyes meeting Gilmore and Iona’s, each offering him a nod in return. 

“Where is Lord Marcus and Lord Aurelius?”

“Fled, Your Grace. With some 200 men.”

Fergus clenched his jaw and bite down on the inside of his cheek. Attempting to keep his anger in check.

“Spread word from each end of the Coastlands, anyone assisting Howe loyalists will be treated as traitors to the Queen’s Justice. From this moment forward, House Howe is stripped of it’s lands, it’s titles, it’s honor, it’s history. The members of their Family are to be hunted and killed.”

As Fergus spoke, he took the steps downwards from the raised platform, “We will kill every last one of them for what they did to our home. What they did to our people. They will never be safe, they will never know a home as long as we draw breath. We march for Amaranthine. GOIREA GU BRATH!”

There was no pause for the gathered commanders and Lords to start chanting alongside their Teyrn.

* * *

 

He took the Teryn bedroom as it was rightfully his. Thomas’s things were thrown out and added to the large growing pyre. The peoples of Highever were quick to welcome the Couslands back to their ancestral home. 

Fergus sat alone in his room. He had ordered everything taken out and burned. Leaving only a mattress on the floor. His back pressed up against the wall with a bottle of wine resting in between his thighs. 

The sun risen hours ago, bringing forth a new dawn for Highever. Fergus could not pull himself from his spot, stuck in the same spot 

He couldn’t go back into  _ that _ room. His old bedchambers. Not where it was filled with so many memories. Waking up spooned against Oriana, the faint scent of lavender lingering on her skin. 

That thought drove the need to take another swig of wine to rise up through Fergus' chest. Lifting the bottle up and taking a long sip from the sweet red wine. 

A swift knock to the bedroom door pulled Fergus from his hazy thoughts, “I said I didn’t wish to be disturbed!”

The door opened anyways. Fergus struggled to his feet, the bottle of wine rolling across the floor. He was forced to use the wall to support him, looking through bloodshot eyes at the figure standing in the doorway. 

It would be Iona that came to see him. The one person he didn’t wish to see because then the guilt hit him like another wave, another punch in the gut. Another reminder of everything that had happened. 

Iona’s lips moving, talking to him but everything around Fergus was dead air. His mind wandering somewhere else. 

He had thought coming back to Highever he would finally be able to put to rest the ghosts that lingered in these halls. Being back here was only proving to make those ghosts worst. It was all new again; the pain, the anger and the guilt. Mixing all together inside of Fergus' heart until his entire body was numb to feeling. 

The man thought for sure that he would only feel anger in this moment. Some unflinching rage directed at Thomas. He had killed Oren right in front of him, Maker knows what else Thomas did to his  _ son _ to make him believe Thomas was protecting him. 

What scared Fergus the most was that he felt  _ nothing at all anymore _ . No pain, no anger, no happiness, no warmth, no coldness. Nothing. 

All he could focus on was Iona’s moving lips. The elf coming closer and closer to him until Iona stood in front of Fergus. 

Fergus was snapped from his head when Iona’s hands gently cupped his cheeks, thumbs brushing over his worn features, “Fergus..”

Fergus snapped to the side, aiming to put distance between him and Iona, “I said I didn’t wish to be disturbed.”

Iona sighed loudly, reaching for Fergus' wrist, “Fergus, what happened…”

“I.don’t.want.to.think.about.it.” Fergus twisted on his heel to face back Iona, whispering out each and every word.

Iona went stiff, the distance separating her and Fergus numbering less than a few inches. What brought Iona’s body stiff was how  _ soft _ Fergus' voice was. She was prepared for anger, yelling, crying, any type of emotion other than this. 

“Fergus, Oren…”

“Don’t say his name.” Fergus whispered out. 

Iona’s voice caught in her throat. Fergus' hard eyes had softened, tears threatening to break with each passing second they lingered on the topic. 

A father’s, a parent’s, worst fear was that they failed their child. They weren’t able to protect them. It was something that Iona feared every day with her daughter far away from her in Denerim. That if she tried harder, does something more, she would be able to save her. 

But Fergus had done everything he could, he had done the unthinkable and retook Highever to only be faced with the reason he was fighting for. And to then have it taken from him, only an arm’s reach away, a swing of his sword away, from stopping it. 

Iona believed that’s what Howe wanted. He had no intention of fighting a real war. This was personal, between him and the Couslands. Between him and the idea of a true loving father. Who was prepared to do anything and everything to avenge, and for a small moment, save, his son. 

She put the blame on herself in part, if only she digged deeper, risked her spies more to find out what Thomas was planning. To understand Howe better. She, they, thought they knew him. 

A mad dog without a leash. 

Fergus finally broke, unable to keep it all screwed in anymore. His arms wrapped around Iona’s waist and hugged the blonde elf to him. Shoving his face into her hair and squeezing her tight. Iona’s own arms wrapped around the Teyrn’s weeping body, nuzzling her nose along the side of his neck. 

“I..I..am so  _ sorry _ .” Fergus whispered out to the empty room. 

Iona knew he wasn’t speaking to her.

* * *

 

In comparison to the size of Castle Cousland’s courtyard, it was nearly empty. Only a few had been permitted to attend the funeral. The nobility that had declared for Fergus and the men that had followed him since Ostagar. 

The rain had stopped but the skies were still overcast and dark. The afternoon sun was hidden by the large dark clouds, casting no light down upon the newly conquered City. 

Most were dressed fully in black. The soldiers bearing whatever dark colored cloaks they could find and that weren’t stained from traveling. The usual blues, silvers, and greens of Highever and Cousland were hidden away. 

Built in the middle of the courtyard was a wood pyre. The dry wood taken from the woods around the city earlier in that day. Bundles of hay were tucked on top of the pyre and inwards into the pyre itself. 

Oren’s small body laid out on top of the pyre. Changed into a fine tunic and breeches. Oren’s body had been washed alongside his hair combed back along the back of his skull. The scars that had been inflicted on him while under Thomas’s care were hidden. 

Fergus stood less than 10 feet away from the pyre. No one dared to stand close to Fergus, the closest one near the Teyrn was Iona but even the blonde knew better to approach closer. 

The Teyrn carried a torch in his right hand, his footsteps sounding off the stone courtyard beneath him while he took himself closer to the pyre. 

A Cousland banner covered the lower half of Oren’s body. Fergus' free hand went to rest on his son’s chest. Trying his hardest to blink the tears away from his eyes as he studied Oren’s pale peaceful face. 

Seeing Oren alive, to only have him killed mere inches away from him, painfully reminded Fergus of how much he had lost in such a short amount of time. His parents were died, his wife and son were died. There was only his sister who only knew rumors. 

Had he done the right thing? IF he had been kinder to Howe’s forces would his son still be alive? If he had been kinder to Thomas when they were young, would it have saved Thomas from this life? 

It all bore down on him at once; the pain, the guilt, the regret, the what if’s. All down on his shoulders. 

“I am so sorry that I couldn’t  _ save you _ .” Fergus whispered out to Oren. His hand combing the long strands of brown hair. 

“No parent should have to bury their only son.” Fergus bowed his head down to Oren’s chest, a sob escaping. 

Fergus lifted his head, eyes stained red from crying with silent tears still falling. He lifted the Cousland banner up to cover the whole of Oren’s body, only taking one last long glance before tossing the torch to the hay inside of the pyre. 

The Teyrn backed away with his hands going to rest on his sword hilt. 

_ Land of bear and land of eagle  _ _   
_ _ Land that gave us birth and blessing  _ _   
_ _ Land that called us ever homewards  _ _   
_ _ We will go home across the mountains  _ _   
_ _ We will go home, we will go home  _ _   
_ _ We will go home across the mountains  _ _   
_ _ We will go home, we will go home  _ _   
_ _ We will go home across the mountains  _ _   
_ __   
Iona’s voice broke through the silence. A song that they all knew too well leaving her lips. It was the song that many had sung around the campfires during the fighting. To finally go home, to reclaim Highever for their own. 

Others were joining in, the mix of voices sounding more somber than usual. 

_ Land of freedom land of heroes  _ _   
_ _ Land that gave us hope and memories  _ _   
_ _ Hear our singing hear our longing  _ _   
_ _ We will go home across the mountains  _ _   
_ _ We will go home, we will go home  _ _   
_ _ We will go home across the mountains  _ _   
_ _ We will go home, we will go home  _ _   
_ _ We will go home across the mountains  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Land of sun and land of moonlight  _ _   
_ _ Land that gave us joy and sorrow  _ _   
_ _ Land that gave us love and laughter  _ _   
_ _ We will go home across the mountains     _ _   
_ _ We will go home, we will go home  _ _   
_ _ We will go home across the mountains  _ _   
_ _ We will go home, we will go home  _ _   
_ __ We will go home across the mountains

It wasn’t until the very end that Fergus whispered the words to himself. 

_ When the land is there before us  _ _   
_ _ We have gone home across the mountains  _ _   
_ _ We will go home, we will go home  _ _   
_ __ We will go home across the mountains

This was his home now. Highever, the place that had been always the city upon the hill, was nothing but a shadow of its former self. All those happy memories from his childhood and life, ruined. Turned to ash in his mouth. 

All because of Thomas Howe. All because the poor little abused boy had turned into a monster. All because that monster needed to have the final upper hand. All because of  _ him _ . 

Fergus turned and marched away from the burning pyre. The small crowd parted for the Teyrn. Iona looking torn to chase after him or standing still in her spot.

* * *

 

There were the city cells, used for petty criminals, murderers, rapists and so forth. The Cousland hadn’t need to use Castle Cousland’s cells in generations. Used only for political prisoners before the rights of the nobility were installed. One couldn’t shove a rival Bann's son into some dark cell when they had the right to ransom. 

Now, the block of cells only hosted one prisoner. At the very end of the block, tucked away from any source of sunlight. Tucked away and forgotten. 

Fergus called way the two guards that sat guard near the entrance of the cell block. All that could be heard was the soft dripping sound of water coming from different leaky holes in the stone. 

The Teyrn’s footsteps drowned out the dripping of runoff rainwater. He could hear Thomas mumbling from his cell, “As he  _ finally _ arrived?” 

Thomas was tied to a chair. Fergus didn’t even want to give him that right of being able to sleep laying down. 

Thomas’s face was heavily bruised and swollen over from the beating Fergus gave to him nights before. Barely able to look out of either eye, it didn’t stop the smirk coming to his lips once Fergus came to stand in front of the cell bars. 

“Looks like someone had a rough day. Wanna talk about it?” Thomas whispered out, the smirk only growing larger. 

Fergus growled. His hands wrapping around the rusty iron bars of the cell, “You’re not in a position to play games.”

“I actually think this is the perfect position to play games. How was the funeral? I heard the guards talking about it.” 

“Don’t speak of him.”

“You know, Oren was a slow learner at first but he came around. All it took was a few slaps and he was like the rest of my dogs, begging at my feet to be feed.”

Fergus used his key to unlock the cell and sweep inside, “I said don’t speak of him!”

Fergus' form loomed over Thomas but the Howe stared up at him, smirk still plastered across his face, “At first he spoke of you all the time. Saying you’ll come and save him. Did you know that? How badly he wanted his Father to come and knock down the door?”

The Teyrn’s right hand flew out to wrap around Thomas’s throat, squeezing it hard. Instead of choking, Thomas started laughing, painful grasps of air escaping alongside his chuckling. 

He snaked his hand away realizing that it was having no effect on Thomas besides making him laugh. 

“Why?” Fergus whispered out, his eyes glancing away from Thomas. 

In doing so he missed the smirk returning to Thomas, “Why what, Your Grace? You need to be a little more specific.”

“Why him? Why my  _ son _ ?”

“I knew you were alive from the moment you stepped into Highever. Did you really think an armed party your size could just waltz in? It was my Father’s orders to keep Oren alive, having the Cousland heir hidden might come in handy.”

“Your Father ordered you to beat him like a dog?”

“Oh no. I did it because I could. Because I know it would lead to this moment.”

Fergus' eyes came back to Thomas’s face, “You never cared about Highever, did you? This entire war, the Blight, it didn’t matter to you.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Fergus. Highever means  _ everything _ . For our entire existence, the Howes had lived in the shadow of the  _ grand  _ and  _ great  _ House Cousland,” Thomas turned his head the best he could to spit out a mouthful of snot and blood, “You, your cunt loving sister, and your parents danced around like you were royalty. Too good for everyone beneath you.” 

“More than a few Houses wanted to see the Couslands knocked down from their pedestal. To be burnt to nothing. And for House Howe to rise in its place. My Brother was too weak, my sister too much of a craven, but I, I would be my Father’s heir. I would restore the glory of the Howes.” 

Fergus' drew a dagger from his sword belt, stepping close to Thomas once more and placed the blade up against his pale throat, “Stop.talking.”

“Do it, Fergus. Slit my throat. You’ll never forget me, Fergus. No matter how hard you try. You’ll never forget the moment when I killed your pathetic craven son in front of you.” 

His tear stained eyes stared down at Thomas’s beaten face. His hand hand that held the dagger begun to shake. He had to do this, to avenge his son, his wife, his parents. To make good of everything that happened. 

The blade sliced across Thomas’s throat. Fergus stepped out of the way to allow the few sprays of blood to hit the ground instead of his clothes. Fergus watched in complete silence; Thomas choking over his own blood. Pouring down the front of his body and pooling on the floor. 

Thomas’s eyes refused to leave his. Staring at him through it all until finally his eyes shut close, body going stiff. 

It was then that Fergus fell to his knees. His knees and legs becoming soaked in the pool of blood. The dagger dropped from his hand while his tears overtook him again. 

_ “I am sorry.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Brother” is capitalized for dramatic reasoning. With Thomas wielding it as a title rather than the traditional sense of the word.   
> T  
> he song is called “Song of Exile (We Will Go Home), known from the movie King Arthur


	12. Chapter 12

 

_ Loghain hid his frown behind the rim of his wine glass.  _

_ The King’s lavish tent made Loghain feel sick. The amount of rugs, hanging pictures, armor stands. It was nothing like the tents Maric and him lived in during the war. Barely bits of cloth hanging from wooden poles.  _

_ It was Eamon’s doing, no doubt. Along the fine jewel gold crown resting on Cailin’s blonde curls. The King was studying the map of Ostagar and the rest of the wilds, sipping from a glass of spiced rum.  _

_ Cailan was shaking his head at something, mumbling underneath his breath. _

_ “What was that, Your Majesty?” Loghain asked. Going to place his glass down and stand on the opposite end of the war table.  _

_ “Our pathways of retreat are limited. If we’re overran, an all out retreat along the old highway could be dangerous.” Cailan mused, looking up at Loghain.  _

_ Loghain studied the young King in silence for a few passing moments. His features softening just for a moment as he nodded, “I thought retreat was not an option.” _

_ “Not for me, Your Grace. But the others, if the darkspawn become too much.” _

_ The King had displayed nothing but an egoistic assurance with this battle. It was surprising to now hear the young man actually planning for the worst case serinco.  _

_ “Are you no longer confident in your leadership abilities?” _

_ “A commander must plan for every possible outcome. Total defeat is one of those possible outcomes.” _

_ “And who told you that?” _

_ “You did.” Cailan;s lips formed into a smile. His eyes dropping back down to study the map.  _

_ Loghain fell into silence, his eyes bearing down on the top of Cailan’s head. The past months had been troubling in the Royal Family but Loghain couldn’t help but to feel the smallest bit of ease coming to his head. Fooling him for just a moment.  _

_ “Has there been any news of Eamon?” _

_ “More delays. Even the Highever forces have arrived in full before the first of the Hinterland’s.” Cailan mumbled, looking up from the map and drowning his glass of rum. Walking to refill it from a bronze pitcher.  _

_ “It’s almost as if Eamon is planning something.” _

_ The King sent a dark look over his shoulder, “Are you questioning the honor of my Uncle, Loghain?” _

_ “No, I am denying its existence.” _

_ Loghain waited for Cailan to launch into yet another screaming match but instead the King only snorted and chuckled.  _

_ “You should give Eamon more credit, Loghain. Without him, much needed reforms wouldn’t of  passed the Landsmeet.” _

_ “It also made him extremely wealthy.” _

_ “Now you’re sounding like Anora.” _

_ “You should listen to her more often. She’s the only one that speaks sense in the entire Court.” _

_ That caused Cailan to fall into silence. The rumors of Cailan planning to annul his marriage to Anora coming to the forefront of their minds.  _

_ “What do you think Father would do?” _

_ Loghain was pulled from his thoughts, giving a small shrug of his shoulders, “We had only a...few experiences fighting darkspawn. They are not as mindless as you think. Archdemon or not.” _

_ “I wished he was here. He would know what to do. How to win.” Cailan’s voice became soft. His tone being nothing more than a whisper.  _

_ “Your Father was only as good as the men he had behind him. Picking men to help him command based on merit not stance of birth.” _

_ The King was not able to respond due to the tent flaps opening and one of his trusted servants walked in. Loghain became quiet, sipping from the glass of wine. His hands focusing on the map below him.  _

_ Loghain made the mistake of glancing up just as the servant passed the sealed letter to Cailan.  _

_ Loghain knew the seal better than he would care to admit. No matter the Emperor or Empress, it was always the same.  _

_ The moment was broken. The frown coming back to Loghain’s features. Quickly drowning his wine glass and placing it down back onto the table, “I am needed elsewhere, Your Majesty.” _

_ Cailan was too busy breaking the seal on the letter and only waved his hand to Loghain.  _

_ The Teyrn bite back a growl. Marching out of the tent and storming back to his tent. _

* * *

 

Loghain’s mind slowly came back into focus. Blinking away the thoughts and images as his eyes scanned over the bedroom. 

He was still bedridden, or more, locked to his bedchambers. None besides Wynne visited him and that was out of the orders from the Warden Elissa. 

Loghain was so sure in that moment at the Landsmeet that she would do it. Why wouldn’t she strike him down? Or at the very least allow that Alistair to do the deed. 

But to spare him, what did they gain?

A bitter old man haunted by his choices and actions. Who no matter what could not escape the sight of the blood on his hands. 

That was the hard question; why? Why had he done it? Why had he allowed  _ so much bad to happen? _ Why did he order it to happen?

Why? Why! **Why?!**

A loud growl escaped from Loghain, the former General rolling out of the bed and standing onto his two feet. Shoulders shaking with anger as he clenched his fists and tensed his arms. 

Why couldn’t she had just killed him? Ended it on the Landsmeet floor. 

Living with this, living like this? Was that her game, to make him relive every single painful moment. Locked in this room there was nothing to distract him from himself. Every choice, every memory. What he told himself at night to get him through the day. 

He could blame it on Howe, on Eam..

His thoughts were broken when the door to his chambers were opened. He didn’t turn his head, having expected Wynne, “Have you come back to your captive?”

“I could find a cell if you prefer.”

But it wasn’t the elder mage’s voice. It was younger but still very much strained. 

Loghain turned his head to find Elissa Cousland standing in the doorway. Dressed in a leather gambeson and pants. Sword belt hanging from around her hips.

She sure did grow up in the past year. Even as a young women Loghain thought she looked more like a teen than an adult. Pretending and playing as if she understood everything in the world. 

Instead now the Warden held more grimness that Loghain did. Carrying her shoulders squared, hands tucked behind her back. He could see a few faint scars lingering around her face, something he did not notice in their fight. 

Loghain turned back away from the door and stared forward. Taking his silence as his answer, Elissa entered the room and shut the door behind her, sealing the two into the room. 

Her feet carried her closer to Loghain, taking the chair Wynne was in hours, or it could be a day, ago. 

“How is she?” Loghain whispered out, his eyes staring at his hands in his lap. 

“Surviving. She had expected me to kill you. She had accepted it. Anora made a choice; her people or you.”

A sad smile came to the corners of Loghain’s lips, “A choice not taken lightly.”

The two warriors fell silent. Loghain’s eyes fixed on his hands while Elissa stared at Loghain, studying his weather face. 

“Why?”

An almost bitter sounding chuckle escaped Loghain’s lips. Why was a good question, why was the question he couldn’t answer. 

“Everything I did, I did for her…”

He was cut off by Elissa lunging out of her chair and wrapped her right hand around his throat. Knocked off guard and shocked by the ferocity and strength of the Warden he could only choke around Elissa’s tight grip.

“Don’t you dare, Loghain.  _ Don’t you dare _ to pin this on Anora. This was you, not her.”

Elissa dropped the grip and took her seat again. Cheeks flushed red now, deep breaths moving through her lungs to calm her. 

“Why, Warden?” Loghain hissed out, pressing his hand to his neck. 

That caught Elissa off guard. The Warden blinking several times before finally breaking eye contact. 

She knew why, she told Anora last night why she had spared him. But words failed to form on Elissa’s lips, unable to tell Loghain. 

“Why was I spared and Howe butchered?”

“That’s why. What did killing Howe do? What did killing Howe  _ fix _ for this Kingdom?”

“It gave you the revenge you sought. You killed a man that brought ruin to Ferelden. Do not act as if there was a chance of redemption within Rendon Howe.”

_ 'Is there a chance of redemption in you?' _   Both seemed to say silently. 

Elissa shook her head, “It’s what I thought I wanted, but it didn’t help. It only made everything worse.”

“Is that why I was spared then?”

“What would killing you fix?”

“Many of injustices, Warden.”

“Killing Howe didn’t bring back my Family. It didn’t bring back my life from before. It did nothing but solidify what happened.”

Loghain felt his words dying on the tip of his tongue. Only revealing a low sigh, “I am sorry for your Family. Bryce was a good man.”

“I assumed you knew. Howe came to you about it, didn’t he?”

Loghain’s head nodded slowly, his eyes refusing to look Elissa in the eye. 

He could  _ feel _ Elissa’s body becoming tense in the chair. He could  _ smell _ the anger coming off of her. Just waiting to break, the smallest of pushes and she would fly into a fit of red wrath. 

Her hands tightened around the arms of the chair. Her own arms shaking as cracks started to appear in the chair. Loghain had known, he had ordered it. 

Elissa quickly stood from the chair and got distance between her and Loghain. Not trusting herself to keep the calm like she did in the Landsmeet. 

“You are a Warden now, Loghain. And just like me, it was forced upon you but it is your life now. Riordan will come to you later this morning and he will begin to teach you the ways of the Order. Do I need to worry of any possible escape attempts?”

It was a good question to ask. He still had supporters, he knew Ser Lucien still lingered, the Banns close to Gwaren would stand by and aid him in escaping. 

“No. On my honor.”

“Honor is a fickle thing, Loghain.”

* * *

Kylon was waiting for the Queen as she entered Fort Drakon. Ser Decker and a collection of knights trailing behind the blonde haired ruler. Kylon gave a deep bow of his upper body as he greeted the ruler, “Your Majesty.”

“Where is she, Colonel?” 

“This way, Your Majesty.” 

The trip to the cells were short. Anora was thankful Kylon hadn’t thrown the elves in the Black Cells, it would only cause more issues in attempting to heal relations with the Elves of the Alienage. 

“Leave me.” Anora waved her hand to Decker and the collection of knights, deciding to walk alone with Kylon. 

The new Guard Colonel stayed silent as he turned the key in the lock to the cell block and opened the door for Anora. There were two more guards sitting at a small table near the door of the block. 

They swiftly stood to attention at the sight of the Queen and their Colonel walking in.

“That will be all, men.” Kylon dismissed the pair, motioning for the hallway where the collection of knights stood. 

“You too, Kylon.”  Anora whispered softly. 

Kylon looked as if he wanted to stay but the look the Queen gave him forced only silence. 

The door was sealed behind Anora, allowing the Queen the long walk down to the last cell in the block. The other cells were empty, the other elves that had risen up being held elsewhere and leaving Shianni to her own entire block. 

“Have you come to gloat in your victory,  _ Your Majesty? _ ” The elf hissed out as soon as the Queen came into sight. 

Shianni was waiting for her. Her head resting on the cool metal bars of her cell. Her back resting against the stone wall. Her amber eyes glared up at Anora, the Queen came to a stop in front of the cell. 

“I know why you hate me..”

“No, you don’t understand. None of you humans understand  _ anything _ . You pretend to listen but all you’re doing is  _ hearing _ .” Shianni spat out at the Queen, keeping in her sitting position. 

Anora took a breath to steady herself, fingers interlacing to cup in front of her body, “I stand by what I said in the Alienage, when the Blight is over…”

“You allowed the man who sold your  _ people into slavery _ to live!” Shinnia’s voice raised, climbing to her feet now. 

“It wasn’t my choice!” Anora found herself yelling back at Shianni, making the mistake of stepping closer to the elf behind bars. 

Shianni’s fist balled around Anora’s dark grey dress and pulled her flush against the bars of the cell. The elf’s right hand holding a makeshift shank which she pressed the tip against Anora’s ribs. 

“Go ahead, scream, they won’t reach you in time.” Shianni hissed out, dragging the tip of the dagger across Anora’s side. 

“You would’ve done it already.” Anora hissed out, her hands grabbing the bars in front of her. 

The growl in Shianni’s throat died into a short whimper, amber eyes bearing up into Anora’s face. 

“It doesn’t have to be this way, Shianni. I won’t lie to you, a lot of things would be easier if Elissa had ordered his death. But he was spared for a reason. Fate, the Maker, decided that there was still something inside of him worth a chance at redemption.” 

“There’s something in all of us that is worth a chance at redemption. This Kingdom in the past year has been driven and divided. But now we have the chance to unite it once more; humans, elves, dwarves, mages, nobility, common folk. We have to unite against this Blight.” 

“When we win, because I know we will defeat this Blight, the elves,  _ you _ , will be given a voice in the Landsmeet. The elves will be freed from their economic slavery.”

“Empty promises. You are the  _ Queen _ ,  _ you _ can change this.”

“Then why haven’t you plunged the dagger into my heart?” Anora whispered out, her eyes darting down to Shianni’s face. 

She could feel Shianni’s hand shaking around the hilt of the shank. The tip pressing barely against the cotton cloth of Anora’s dress. 

“Killing me won’t fix anything, Shianni.  It will only bring more pain.” 

Tears were brimming into Shianni’s eyes. Her face twisting while her entire right arm was shaking. Anora could see the elf struggling with her own emotions. That part of her wanting to plunge the blade into the Queen’s ribs while the other yelled at her to drop it. 

The blade clattered to the floor below Shianni, the elf stumbling back from Anora until her back hit the far wall of her cell. 

Anora took a deep breath to steady herself, watching as Shianni formed into a ball and her cries started to rock her body. 

“One day, months or years from now, when I am stronger. I’ll ensure everything you  _ love _ and cherish in this dark world turns to ash in your mouth. I won’t kill you, Anora, but I’ll kill everything you hold dear. Turn every happy memory into a dark nightmare that keeps you up at night. Making you replay each and everyone until all you can do is cry. Then you’ll understand, Your Majesty, only then you’ll understand what your Father did to me, to my people. ” Shianni whispered out into the dark cell. 

Anora found herself rooted in her spot. Watching with wide eyes as Shianni approached closer again to the bars. Looking up at her with burning amber eyes, “I’ll bring your entire world down around your head, _ Your Majesty _ . Until you’re the only one left.”

The Queen turned on her heel and went back the way she came. Waiting until she had exited the cell block before allowing the shaking nerves to show. Ser Decker watched with wide eyes as the Queen turned and empty her stomach into a nearby bucket. 

“I..is everything alright, Your Majesty?”

For almost getting stabbed, Anora looked well once she emptied her stomach and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Raising back up to her full height and interlacing her fingers in front of her body, she spoke, “Yes. Release her.”

* * *

 

It wasn't until Anora was safely locked behind the doors of her private chambers that she finally allowed the shaking to come into full force. The Queen went straight to a pitcher of wine and glass, hands shaking uncontrollably. 

Wine spilled out of the pitcher, spilling across the end table and staining the rug beneath her feet. Barely getting enough wine to fill the cup half way, Anora downed the glass and tried to pour another. 

_ “Then you’ll understand, Your Majesty, only then you’ll understand what your Father did to me” _

The glass was quickly emptied. The shaking moving up from her hands until her entire arms were shaking without control. Trying with all her might to pour another glass. Needing anything,  _ something _ to stop the shaking. 

Elissa did the right thing, didn’t she? It wasn’t easy by any means but didn’t her Father deserve another chance?  

The pitcher of wine slipped from Anora’s shaking hands. The bronze pitcher clanging to the ground with a soft thud. 

The Queen reached out to steady herself on the end table. Dipping her head, making the crown on her head to fall and clatter to the ground next to the pitcher. 

Her knees gave out from underneath her. Kneeling up against the end table, Anora dipped her head to rest her hot forehead along the smooth cool wood. 

“ _ Oh Maker…” _

The doors to the Queen’s chambers chattered open. The Warden’s eyes scanning over the room, falling onto Anora’s hunched over body. Elissa quickly shut the doors behind her before crossing the distance to the Queen, “ _ Anora.” _

Anora was soon surrounded by Elissa’s familiar form. Anora tucked her face into the crook of Elissa’s neck. “What happened? I heard you went and saw Shianni.”

She wasn’t crying and her shaking was stopping due to Elissa’s arms wrapped around her. Anora breathed in Elissa’s familiar scent, trying her hardest to forget Shianni’s threat, focusing solely on Elissa. 

“You would protect me against anything, right? You would always be there to protect me?” Anora whispered out against Elissa’s neck. 

“Anora..”

“Say it. I need to hear you say it.”

Elissa sighed into Anora’s hair, “No one will ever touch you, Anora. Not as long as I draw breath.”

Anora didn’t move from Elissa’s body, still holding herself into Elissa’s embrace, “She tried stabbing me.”

“And you let her go? Why isn’t she back in Fort Drakon? Why…’

Anora decided there and then that she wouldn’t tell Elissa whatelse the elf had said in private. The Queen could play it all off that she was shaken by the near death experience. If Elissa knew the truth, it would break the low confidence Elissa already had on her decision.

Ordering Loghain’s execution now wouldn’t change that he had already been spared. 

“Sh..she’s just angry, Elissa. She couldn’t do it, that’s what matters.” Anora finally moved her head from Elissa’s shoulder. Placing her hands onto Elissa’s neck and running her fingers along Elissa’s warm skin. 

Elissa was studying her closely. Green eyes bearing down onto Anora’s face. Anora thought for a moment that Elissa was going to push her for more. The moment was broken when Elissa leaned forward to press a kiss to Anora’s brow. 

“You could beat her on a head on fight.” 

That made Anora arch a brow, a grin coming to Elissa’s face as the Warden stood. Anora followed the Warden and went to place the crown back onto her head. Anora came back close into Elissa’s space, spraying her hands across Elissa’s stomach and leaned up the short distance to kiss the tip of Elissa’s chin. 

“We have to be strong. The entire eyes of the Kingdom are upon us.” Anora whispered, looking up at Elissa. 

Elissa leaned her forehead down to press it to Anora’s. Hands gently gripping either one of the Queen’s hips to hold her to her body. 

“She threatened to kill you. I am sure people will understand if you’re a little shaken.”

“The nobility won’t understand. Not with Eamon plotting something.”

“The Blight is upon us, surely they have bigger things to worry about than political games.”

“I only wish that was true.” 

Tucked in Elissa’s arms, Anora could forgot Shianni’s threats, the Blight hanging over them and Eamon’s plots. Enjoying the moment of having Elissa this closer to her. 

Anora’s hands moved lower, unclasping the sword belt around Elissa’s hips and going for the tucked tunic in her pants. She could do with forgetting for a bit longer.

* * *

 

Anora sat tall in the throne. It was an odd experience to say the least. Usually the chair next to her had been filled with Cailan and under her Father’s thumb she had sat during Court sessions in complete silence. 

Now, she was the central of everyone’s eyes. Elissa stood on the right side of the throne, hands resting one over another on Starfang’s hilt with Decker in a similar position on the left side of the throne. 

Gathered before them were the ranking Houses of Gwaren. Arl Bryland and Bann Sighard standing at the full front. 

It was time to settle the issue of who would be commanding the Gwaren forces into battle. 

“How long will it take for the Gwaren forces to be ready?” Anora asked, looking from Bryland to Sighard. 

“My soldiers and knights have, and are, trying to hold back the darkspawn warring parties from striking deeper along the road. Pulling back from South Reach would mean the darkspawn will have an open march north.” Bryland explained. 

Anora nodded and then turned to Sighard. The Bann gave a deep bow before answering, “Combined, without South Reach’s bannermen, we number some 10,000. Loghain prior to the Landsmeet had commanded most of the force to move closer to the Capital. It’ll be less than a week’s march to bring them here if Her Majesty wishes it.”

“And with South Reach’s bannermen?” Anora asked again. 

“13,000 give or take.” Bryland answered, sending a glance in the Queen’s direction. 

Anora glanced behind the men to where the other Lords, Ladies, Banns and Arls stood watching and listening in silence. Nearly all had been willing to follow her father even though the Landsmeet. 

She didn’t see Ser Lucien in the crowd which did not help Anora’s nerves. She thanked the Maker that Ser Cauthrien stood along the nobility that had gathered. Bann Reginalda of White River had her eyes fixed upon Elissa. 

“Give the command to march upon Leften. The village will serve as the staging grounds for our Armies until we have all gathered. Arl Bryland, Bann Sighard, I give you operational command of the Gwaren army as the rightful Teyrna of Gwaren.”

There was a mumbling and then bowing before the throne room started to empty. Anora sighed and leaned into the throne, looking up at Elissa, “They don’t trust me.”

“You don’t trust them either.”

“Perhaps, Your Majesty, it would be wise to address the nobles you fear of turning.” Decker said, silently reminding the two women they weren’t alone. 

“Gwaren won’t help Eamon with anything but with my Father still being alive it complicates matters. Bryland and Sighard will keep most of them in check but the likes of Bann Reginalda, the MacGarths, Ser Lucien. They are blind followers of the man Loghain used to be.”

Anora didn’t miss the way Elissa quickly looked away from Anora to look out over the throne room, “Don’t tell me Elizabeth MacGarth is in the capital.”

“I am surprised you haven’t noticed Edward here. He was glaring at you all through the Landsmeet.” Anora’s lips twisted into a grin, patting Elissa’s elbow. 

“Friends of yours, Your Majesty?” 

“Hardly. House MacGarth are close supporters of my Father. Elizabeth was always one of Cailan’s favorites. Edward is her brother. Luckily, the woman hasn’t been back in Court since before Ostagar.” Anora explained, standing from the throne and smoothing the front of her dress. 

Decker caught Elissa’s eye before looking back to Anora. He was unsure on how to respond. He had only ever treated Anora with due respect befitting a Queen. Hearing her now talk so casually left him wondering. 

“Should we be worried about them, Your Majesty?”

“I worry about everyone, Decker. I did not see Ser Lucien in the crowd which only means he’s scheming somewhere.” 

“Ser Cauthrien was.” Elissa pointed out. 

“And do you think Ser Cauthrien can be trusted?” Anora glanced back up to her lover.

“She didn’t attack us at Howe’s estate when she could’ve. She didn’t attack me before the Landsmeet. I think she  _ could _ be trusted.”

Anora leaned back into the throne. Resting her forehead into the palm of her right hand while her left tapped the armrest of the throne. 

“We need Eamon and the rest of the Hinterlands to come back into line, Your Majesty. With the Arl opening defying you, it gives reason for Gwaren to drag their feet. Or plot to free Loghain.”

“I am still close with Teagan, I’ll speak to him. I know Arl Wulff is not without reason and his lands have been hit the hardest by the Blight. If we can turn Rainesfere and Western Hills against Redcliffe it could be enough.  Elissa, what of your treaties?” 

“We are awaiting responses from the Dwarves and Elves. A day or two more I reckon and we’ll have a raven.”

“And the Mages?”

“Iriving responded quickly. He fears that the Grand Cleric plans to question the authority of the Grey Warden treaty binding Mage support.” 

Anora could not resist the sigh that came from her lips. The tell signs of a headache forming in the back of her skull, “Why I am not surprised? A Blight and the Kingdom is still playing politics.”

“Iriving has promised nearly 100 mages, Anora. Even 1 can change a battle. We need them.”

The trio fell silent, the Warden and Decker’s eyes landing on the Queen who was staring forward as she begun to get lost in thought. 

“I will not allow the Chantry to stand by and watch this Blight happen without any support.The Chantry has hundreds of Templars in Ferelden that can be used in this battle. I will force their hand if I most.” 

“I am sure the Divine will enjoy the thought of that.” Decker commented. 

“The entire whole of Thedas have watched idly by while this Blight have ravaged Ferelden. Orlais have six Chevalier Legions sitting on the border, the Grey Wardens haven’t sent any aid and the Chantry stands by watching. The Chantry in Ferelden will help us or I’ll seize their assets in the Kingdom. The Divine be damned.” 

Anora stood from the throne and positioned her hands in front of her body, “Send a messenger to the Grand Cleric. She’s summoned to the Palace this afternoon.”

* * *

 

The Royal Guard with their red and gold trimmed cloaks lined the walls of the throne room. Lining the way up to where Anora sat perched upon the throne. Ser Decker to her left with Elissa to her right. 

Making their way across the large Landsmeet floor and closer to the throne, was Elemena and Seeker Hadrian with a small collection of Templars behind them. The Grand Cleric wore a silver coronet ontop of her greying head, dressed in a finer set of Chantry robes. The Seeker was dressed in the same black armor with the Seeker herald upon his breastplate. 

Once the pair had made it to the base of the stairs that lead up to the throne, Elemena offered a short curtsey while Hardian bowed his head. 

“Grand Cleric, Seeker Hadrian; thank you for coming on such short notice.” 

“These are still troubling times, Your Majesty. And the Chantry serves as one of the two pillars that keep any Kingdom from falling.” Elemena smiled at Anora, eyes glancing from Anora to Elissa before landing back on the Queen. 

“It is why I have asked you here, Elemena. You pledged your support to me before the Landsmeet and yet I still need it. Warden Elissa, please.” Anora motioned her hand to Elissa next to her. 

“Your Grace, as you know a large selection of the army that will battle the Blight comes from the ancient Grey Warden treaties. Binding Dwarves, Elves, Mages and Humans alike to fight against the greatest evil Thedas as ever known. First Enchanter Iriving has voiced his concerns that the Chantry plans to question the legitimacy of the Mage treaty.” Elissa took a small step forward away from the throne but kept standing on the top step. 

A frown appeared on Elemena’s face. Bringing out the woman’s age, her wrinkles highlighting around her the corners of her lips and eyes, “First Enchanter Iriving does not have the authority to promise said support.”

“Knight-Commander Greagoir also agreed, Your Grace.”

The frown became larger, attempting to stare down Elissa from the long distance that separated them, “It is an issue that will be looked into, Warden. Knight-Commander Greagoir did not have the authority either.”

“If Knight-Commander Greagoir and First Enchanter Iriving does not have the authority then it must rest with you, Elemena, correct?” Anora asked from her spot. 

“Correct, Your Majesty. I have written to the Divine asking for guidance on the issue.” 

“Your Grace, the longer we wait the more time it gives to the darkspawn to gather their forces and burn more of Ferelden.”

“We have waited a year already, haven’t we? I am sure the Divine will write back soon.”

Elissa swallowed back a growl that threatened to spill out at the Grand Cleric. Her eyes passed to the Seeker who looked too amused by the entire experience. Though Elissa was not sure if the smirk was for them or for the Grand Cleric. 

“You are the head of the Chantry in Ferelden, are you not, Elemena?” Anora stood from the throne now, motioning Elissa to back off as she came to stand on the top step.

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

“And how many Templars does the Chantry command in Ferelden?”

“Some 500, Your Majesty.” The Seeker answered the question.

“And how many of those are here in the Capital and at the Tower?”

“Combined? Roughly 300 of that 500. The others are spread across the Kingdom at the different chapels.” 

“300 highly trained and skilled Templars. Near 100 Mages of differing skillsets. Is the Chantry so ready to stand by and watch the whole of Ferelden be burn alive?” Anora took another step down. The warmness in her voice dropping as a bitter coldness took root in her tone. 

“Your Majesty,..”

“If the Chantry wishes to play games with me, Elemena, I wonder what games I could play back with. I do wonder how much gold the Chantry has hidden here in Denerim. Such gold can be used in the rebuilding efforts.”

“You wouldn’t  _ dare _ .” Elemena hissed out, eyes narrowing into a glare. 

A smirk came to Anora’s lips, taking another step down closer to Elemena, “You don’t know me that well, don’t you, Elemena. I would dare, and I will have what’s due.”

“Do you think the common people and the Empire will allow you to steal…”

“Just like how you’re attempting to stand by and allow a Blight to kill thousands more of people. Not very holy.” 

“Seeker Hadrian, do you plan on to stand in silence while she speaks hearsay!” Elemena turned to the Seeker. 

“The Templars and Mages should assist in the fighting.” The Seeker said simply, offering Elemena a smile. 

Elemena’s frown deepened, twisting her head from the Seeker and looking up at Anora. The Queen had finally reached the final step that separated her from the Grand Cleric. The old woman glanced over Anora’s shoulder to where Elissa stood.

“The Divine will hear of this after the Blight. This isn’t over, Anora.” Elemena sent one last glare in the Queen’s direction before turning on her heel and heading out. The Templars turning as the Cleric passed and following her out. 

The Seeker stayed in his spot, itching his chin, “I do love how the Blight brings people together.” 

“I must thank you Seeker, I did not think you would support such a move.” Anora turned her attention away from Elemena’s retreating back and to the black haired Seeker. 

“I answer to the Lord Seeker, Your Majesty. Not the Grand Cleric. It’s the right thing to do anyways.”

“Will you be involved in the fighting then, Seeker?”

“Naturally. Please excuse me, Your Majesty, I need to send a raven to the Lord Seeker and issue orders to the Templars.” The Seeker offered a bow of his head and took a few steps back before turning to leave the throne room. 

Elissa joined Anora on the bottom step, the Queen speaking out to the silent knight and Warden, “What is he playing at?”

“Never liked Seekers.” Elissa mumbled. 

“He’s an ally for the moment, Your Majesty. We should make use of it.” Decker joined the other two women on the final step. 

“My Kingdom is still bleeding and yet there are those who will seek to bleed it more. When this is all over, they’ll…”

The words fell hollow coming from Anora’s lips. The flash of Shianni’s tear streaked face glaring up at her through the cell bars came to the full front of her mind. She couldn’t even believe herself now could she?

Elissa caught herself from reaching out to grasp Anora’s hand. Decker’s eyes lingering on the pair causing the Warden to quickly play it off as her stretching her arm. She knew the look on Anora’s face, it was the same look that mirrored on her own. 

“I need some air. I’ll join you two later.” Elissa offered a bow to Anora and Decker before walking for the door.

* * *

 

Duran walked alongside Elissa, the pair having decided to walk the outer walls of the capitol to get a good look at the defenses. More so it was a reason for Elissa to dip out of the Palace and escape the chaos she had a hand in causing. 

The dwarf was more than happy to be Elissa’s silent partner. His smoking pipe resting on his lips as the sun sunk down beneath the horizon. 

“I find Ferelden politics interesting.” Duran spoke, eyes glancing around the views of the different parts of the city. 

“And why’s that?”

“I had always pictured all above ground Kingdoms to be ruled with a strict sense of power. The King or Queen ruling with absolute power in which all others bend to. Doesn’t seem the case here in Ferelden.” 

Elissa went to rest her hands onto her belt, going to stop the pair along the battlements and resting her body against the stone, “Suppose that’s right. While everyone swears oath of fealty to their liege and onto the throne, there’s been countless times when those oaths have been ignored.”

“The Landsmeet reminded me much of an Assembly meeting. Though I was the second born it is the Assembly that makes a King or a Queen, and they wanted me.”

“It is the nobility that holds true power here. Maric commanded respect so in due, the nobility gave him more power. Cailan on the other hand, lacked the same respect his Father did.” Elissa scratched her chin. 

“Trian wished to rule as the supreme King of Orzammar. A fair portion of the Assembly hated everything he did.” 

“And you?” Elissa looked down from looking out over the city to catch Duran’s eyes. 

They hadn’t spoken much about Duran’s own personal politics. The company had heard the rumors and talk when they were in Orzammar about the second Prince but nothing actually from Duran himself. 

“It...it’s a difficult question. A  _ good _ monarch with absolute power can do a lot of good. A bad monarch with absolute power can install reign of terrors over the the people they’re meant to protect.” 

“I don’t think that’s an answer.” 

“Balance. We must always strike a balance. In ourselves firstly and the world around us. A King, or a Queen, are installed to protect and lead their people. Their decisions are not always easy but that is why they consort with the Castes but even then the ruler must decide what is best for everyone.”

“To answer your question from before, Ferelden has a sense of common rights for each and every person…”

“Besides the elves.”

Elissa cracked her neck to the side, hands squeezing her belt before calming, “Besides the elves. Just like how your Casteless live like slaves in shanty towns. The world is full of injustices but compared to Oslais, our people have rights. The very idea of this new Ferelden Kingdom was birthed on the idea that we had the  _ right _ to be self governing. That each landholding freeman had a voice. Hence the Landsmeet.”

“Arl Eamon said the Landsmeet meet at least twice a year.”

“Before the harvest and in the spring, yes. The King or a body of nobility can call for more if issues arise. If they wish to petition to the Crown in front of the entire Kingdom.” 

“Is it why that Eamon has such control over the politics?”

“He’s been commonly looked at as the de facto Teyrn of the Hinterlands. He was the brother to Queen Rowana and he knows how to play the game well as we all see.”

“And how do you plan on beating him then?”

Elissa looked back down to Duran, “Beat him? Eamon is many things but this is a Blight.”

“It took Anora threatening the Chantry to get their support. Gwaren is one stabbing away from rebellion and Eamon has his own motives. The situation is more dire than you make it out to be.”

The Warden clenched her jaw shut and looked away from Duran. She had gone on this walk to pretend for an hour that everything was fine. To clear her head. 

“What would you have me do then, Duran? Snap my fingers and make everything all better?”

“Gwaren needs to be stabilized and united….”

Duran was stopped from speaking by the appearance of a messenger running along the battlement in their direction. The young boy coming to stop in front of Elissa, taking a second to catch his breath, “Q..Queen Anora requests you back to the Palace, Warden. A raven has arrived from Highever.”

* * *

 

“It appears the Bann finally arrived.” The elf’s voice broke the silence that had fallen over the gatehouse. 

Out across the empty fields and near the treeline came the marching lines of Bann Warwick’s forces. The green oak tree on a white field, the sigil of Easthallow and House Warwick, flapped from the flags in the wind. 

Fergus stood in the middle of Iona and Gilmore. The Teyrn’s head and face covered by the silver burgonet helm with a Cousland blue plume, a fur lined collar wrapped around the neck of the silver breastplate. 

“I don’t see any siege equipment.” Lord Mac Ritcher noted. 

“He wouldn’t be able to win in a siege, not with the Howe forces we have.” Bann Reinhardt crossed her arms over her chest, eyes going from the field to where Fergus stood. 

“He’s not planning for a siege.” Fergus spoke finally, pointing to where a small cluster of riders were making their way across the open fields, two carrying clear white banners attached to poles. 

“He’s going to offer terms?” 

“He’s going to offer his knee or it’s his head.” Fergus said, turning on his heel to walk down the stairs and motioning for the gates to be opened. 

Fergus mounted upon his large warhorse. Iona, Gilmore, Bruce, Ser Stuart and lastly Bann Reinhardt mimicked him. With a few collection of knights, the party headed out of the gates of Highever and out into the field. 

It was a short ride to meet Bann Warwick. There were a few other nobles sitting alongside Bann Warwick on horseback. The Bann removed his helmet from his head, showing his short black hair to the sunlight and confirming that it was Andrew Warwick. 

“Teyrn Cousland.” Warwick bowed his head at Fergus. 

“Very quick to switch to the winning side, Bann.” Fergus stared through the courtesy, glancing to the other mounted nobles that followed Warwick. 

None that Fergus could remember by face. 

“The Howes were named the rightful Teyrns of Highever. Duty bounds fealty to…”

“Honor bounds you to fight for the Couslands after the Howes slaughtered my Family in their beds and countless others. Your duty as a good man was to defend my Family but instead you bent the knee to Howe.” Fergus’s voice was rough, strained from the hours of being locked in his old bedroom alone. 

“You made a choice, Bann Warwick, just as you have another choice before you.” Iona spoke quickly, aiming to keep from Fergus’s emotions to get the better of him. They needed Warwick’s army. 

Fergus’s hands tighten around the reins of his horse. Needing something to squeeze onto to keep his anger from spilling out, “If you and your banners bend the knee to me, all crimes of this past year will be pardoned and forgiven. Highever is mine again, the last of Howe’s supporters are in full retreat and my sister has ensured Queen Anora’s throne.”

“And if we don’t?”

“I will erase all of your Houses from the history pages.” 

“I did not serve Rendon Howe with glee, Fergus. But there are those who question your actions to reclaim Highever. Slaughtering soldiers by the dozens.”

“It doesn’t matter how you served him, Bann. But that you did, you did the easy thing and gave in. While countless others resisted against his tyranny you hid behind ‘duty’. Do not dare to reason it.”

The cold air coming off the sea nipped at the fur lined coats of armor. Fergus staring down Warwick from the short distance that separated them. 

“Yourself, your House and your bannermen would be welcomed once more under the Cousland banner, my Lord. Circumstances of this past year had caused many to go astray but it does not mean bonds can be healed and reforged, stronger than ever.” Iona nudged her horse that small bit closer, a sign for Fergus to remember what was on the line here. 

Bann Warwick looked from Fergus to Iona and then back to Fergus, “Your... _ elven advisor _ seems well practiced.” 

“I was the lady-in-waiting to Lady Landra before the war.”

“And what are you now?”

“The left hand of Teyrn Fergus Cousland, my Lord.”

Warwick’s eyes lingered on Iona, glancing to Fergus and nodding his head slowly, “Aye, I see.” 

“The Blight is the real threat of this Kingdom, Warwick. It has yet to arrive this far north but it will and if we do not stand united, it will tear apart whatever is left. This is bigger than any House’s legacy. There is no Cousland, no Warwick, when it comes to the darkspawn. Only the living and the tainted. 

Warwick fell silent, pulling back to mumble with the other ranking Lords and Ladies that had followed him to the meeting. Annoyance was building in Fergus’s stomach. They had to debate among themselves if they would return to the fold? 

What such honorable and  _ loyal _ vassals. 

“Aye, we’ll have peace on those terms, Your Grace.”

“So be it. We make for Amaranthine.” 

* * *

Anora leaned back into the puff back of the couch. The letter from Highever laying open on the coffee table in front of her. A glass of wine resting in her right hand. 

Ser Decker stood not too far away. With his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes stared down at the floor, “It’s certainly good news, Your Majesty.”

Anora lifted the rim of her wine glass up to her lips to sip, “I told Elissa before the Landsmeet that she had to focus on the Landsmeet. EVeryone knew the rumors of Fergus, I even believed them, but I robbed her of having hope.”

“And if the letter was from Thomas Howe instead with Fergus’s head? You did what was necessary.”

“Elissa means...much to me, Richard. I…” Anora trailed off, unable to find the right words. Instead she took another sip of her wine. 

The Ser’s head peeked up to look over at the Queen. It was the first time she had used his first name. Nearly everyone called him Decker. 

“I will not pretend to know the friendship you and Warden Elissa have, Your Majesty, but you are the Queen. Your duty to the Crown and Kingdom must come first before personal indulgence.” 

Anora shook her head, “Would you believe me if I said King Maric always said something similar to me years ago?”

“I recall him saying it often if I am honest.”

“I was young, late teens or about. I wasn’t married to Cailan but that day was swiftly arriving. He took me to the side and walked with me through the Palace. My Father had warned me earlier that day so I prepared myself for the worse.” 

Anora paused to set her glass of wine back down on the coffee table, suddenly not feeling the need to drink. She leaned back into the couch, looking up to the knight, “What I remembered the most was him telling me that I am Cailan’s  _ equal _ . No matter what anyone might say or do, I was the Queen of Ferelden. I had to disconnect feelings from duty. I must put the duty above love, above everything else. That the Crown must always win.” 

Decker opened his mouth to respond but was stopped by the double doors of the Queen’s study bursting open. A red face and heavy breathing Elissa appearing in the door frame. He watched Anora’s features softened, standing from the couch and grabbing the letter. 

It was almost as if Anora had quickly forgotten that Decker was standing a few feet away. She was pulled to Elissa, by some unseen force. The letter was grabbed from the Queen’s hand, Elissa’s eyes scanning each line, taking in each word from her Brother’s hand. 

He noticed many things. He noticed how Anora’s hands cupped in front of her body. Playing with her fingers, a nervous action she did that Decker was starting to learn. 

Elissa’s hand crumbled the edge of the letter, stepping closer to the Queen that they were nearly pressed up against each other. Decker decided then it was time to clear his throat, reminding that he was in the room, “Good news out of Highever?”

Anora stepped away from Elissa. Eyes darting to Decker and then back to Elissa. She interlaced her fingers together, resting them in front of her body.

“My brother is alive. He’s retaken Highever.” Elissa finally said, looking from Anora to Decker. Anora was unsure if it was phased as a question or a statement. An almost unbelieving look on Elissa’s face. 

The Queen and knight had already read the letter but both nodded their head nevertheless. 

“I will send runners to Alfstanna and Franderel. Hopefully they will catch them before they leave the City to rally their troops.” Decker gave a swift bow to Anora and Elissa before exiting the room, closing the doors behind him. 

“There was another letter. Addressed to you from Fergus.” Anora explained, retreating across the room to her desk where the sealed letter laid. 

Elissa followed after, taking the letter from Anora’s outstretched hand and breaking the seal. Silence followed. 

The Warden took a seat in one of the high backed chair in front of Anora’s desk. The letter becoming crumbled into her fist. 

“Thomas had Oren since the fall of Highever. I..I thought he was dead. Th...there was so much  _ blood _ . I thought…”

Anora was drawn to Elissa. Kneeling in front of the Warden to rest her hands on her knees. Hands running along her clothed thighs, “But he’s alive?”

A few tears were starting to leak from Elissa’s eyes, shaking her head tightly, “ _ No. _ Thomas killed him. Fergus had to bury his son.”

Elissa took a deep breath to control her tears. A small sob escaping, “This fucking war, this fucking Blight has taken  _ so much _ from me.”

“You have Fergus again, Ellie. And you still have me.” Anora was ready for crying and maybe even anger from Elissa, but there was a certain calm that came to Elissa’s face. 

“Maybe, maybe the way to survive all of this, is to look at the good that is still left.” Anora found herself whispering out, “focusing only on how everything’s changed, I don’t think I’ll survive until the end.” 

The tips of Elissa’s fingertips stopped Anora from opening her mouth to speak more. IT was one of the few times Elissa were not wearing leather gloves, the skin on skin contact forcing a soft sigh from Anora. 

Elissa brushed the few blonde strands that had loosen from Anora’s braided bun. She moved them back behind Anora’s ear to clear them from the Queen’s face, “You’re so beautiful.” 

Anora pressed her lips to the tip of Elissa’s chin, then another one to her right cheek, then to her left. Her pale hand ran up Elissa’s right arm, squeezing into the muscles of her bicep before curling around the back of her neck. 

The Queen leaned up the rest of the distance to press their lips together. Elissa’s auburn hair was pulled into a tight braid but Anora’s fingers played with the hair at the nape of her neck. 

Anora stayed in control of the kiss, leaving their lips locked together in a slow kiss while she stood to sit down into Elissa’s lap. The Warden’s arms curled around Anora’s waist, holding her steady in her lap. 

Both of Anora’s hands went to the back of Elissa’s neck, the kiss becoming more heated with each second they stayed like this. Elissa stood, Anora’s legs wrapping around her waist on pure reflex. 

The Queen’s mouth attached to the side of Elissa’s neck as the Warden sat Anora down on the edge of her desk. The skirt of her dress being slowly snaked up to around her hips. 

_ “The Crown must always win.” _ The ghost of King Maric whispered through Anora’s head.

* * *

 

Elissa remembered Arl Gallagher Wulff being a giant of a man. Though grey of hair, his body was still the same from his youth, a bear of a man that never failed to surprise by his soft spoken voice. 

The man now wore his age like a curse. The shadows around his eyes from the lack of sleep, his skin a ghostly white pale. According to the others, he rarely left the Gnawed Noble Tavern. One tankard becoming 10 every single day as he tried to drown his memories. 

Elissa slipped into the seat opposite of the Arl, tucked in the back of the tavern in the booth, there was no chance of them being interpreted. 

“Warden.” Wulff grumbled, taking a long swig of his tankard. The back of his hand wiping his wet lips and long beard. 

“Arl Wulff…”

“I am no Arl without a line nor an Arling, Warden,” Wulff sipped again from his tankard, “The young perish and yet I linger. There last evil days shall be mine to watch the end of my House.”

One of the tavern's serving wenches came with Elissa’s own tankard she had ordered at the barkeep. Grasping the handle, Elissa tipped it against Wulff’s tankard, “To the dead.”

“Aye, to the dead.” The man replied. The pair took a long sip each from their ales. 

“I am sorry about Bryce and Eleanor. They didn’t deserve to be stabbed in the back by their friend.” 

Elissa looked down into her drink, “I’ll see them again one day. If you believe in that.”

“If you don’t believe in it, then I don’t know who should,” Wulff trailed off, looking around the half empty tavern with uninterest eyes, “You were right at the Landsmeet. The true and only threat is the Blight.”

“Have the Hinterlands not sent support yet to West Hills?”

“There’s not much left to support. Holdford fell months ago, without my seat of power in the region, everything else fell shortly afterwards. Bryland and I tried to help each other as much as we could but with the Civil War…”

Wulff took a long moment to take a long swig of his ale before he spoke again, “All of southern Ferelden is covered in the black clouds of the darkspawn. Wheat fields now fields of the rotting dead. Entire keeps and towns just piles of ashes. Even the crows get sick of the smell of carrion. And yet we sit here in the capital playing politics as if the end times are not upon us.”

“You mean Eamon?”

“Aye, the great  _ Arl _ Eamon of Redcliffe. He lost the Landsmeet and now he wants the rest of us to follow through with his plans.”

Wulff met Elissa’s eyes now, his stare unflinching on the Warden’s face, “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? To learn what Eamon is up to in his estate?”

“Yes, Wulff.”

“ My people,  _ our  _ people, have suffered double ford from the Blight and civil war. Eamon wishes to ignore that and keep with his politics”

“Aye?”

“The same game he’s been playing since the moment he bartered off his sister to Maric. You would think nearly dying and being cured by the ashes of Andraste would make him less of a cunt.”

Elissa couldn’t resist the snort at that. Nodding her head and sipping from her tankard, “Does he plan to listen to the call of banners?”

“Oh aye, he’s already having the Hinterland forces marshalling. Feels like last time, when Calian called for the banners. Eamon sat on his hands for weeks and never gave the order to march.”

Elissa felt a dribble of ale run down her chin. Wiping with the back of her hand, she set the tankard back down on the table, “What do you mean?”

“You were there at Ostagar, Warden. If Eamon hadn’t dragged his feet, there would’ve been at least another 8.000 soldiers there. Always wondered if it would’ve made the difference.” 

“Do you think….”

Wulff leaned his elbows onto the edges of the table separating them. Leaning that much bit closer to Elissa, voice dipping down to a whisper, “That’s a dangerous question to ask, Warden.”

“I need the Hinterland army, Wulff. Ending this Blight is the only thing that matters. No matter the cost, it must end if this Kingdom will be able to survive.”

Wulff lifted his tankard up to his lips. He had made the choice earlier that day to switch from the usual lightly brewed ale to something much stronger and stiffer. The buzz from earlier that morning had turned into a blinding drunkenness, making his head spin. 

“Aye, aye, Warden. When the time comes; you’ll have what’s left of West Hills behind you. If you can’t end the Blight then we really have pissed away Thedas.”

* * *

 

“Thank you, Teagan, that will be all.” Anora’s voice rang out in the otherwise empty throne room as Elissa entered. 

The Queen was sat with her back pressed against the wooden back of the throne. The Bann gave a deep bow and made down the steps, only offering a nod to Elissa before the two women were alone again. 

“Any word from Eamon?” Elissa asked, approaching closer to the Queen. 

“He’s called his banners like the others but that is all. Teagan was simply relaying the message to me from his Brother.” Anora rested her chin into the palm of her hand, lazy blue eyes tracing up and down Elissa’s form. 

“You don’t seem worried. That sounds like something we should be worried about.”

“Oh, I am worried because I know Eamon far too well. It is Alistair that I don’t know as well.”

“Maybe I could go and try to talk to him.”

“Love, if he doesn’t even speak to Leliana, I doubt he wishes to speak to you.”

Elissa reached Anora’s side, eyes glancing down around the cut of Anora’s dress before going back to her face. Her pink tongue ghosted out from behind her teeth and licked her suddenly very dry lips, an intense shot of lust settling in between her legs. 

Anora caught Elissa’s wandering eyes. A smirk starting to play on the corners of her lips, “You have become quite  _ insatiable _ . Haven’t you?”

“It’s because you’re always wearing that crown now and have that aura about you.” Elissa teased, hands going to rest along the hilt of Starfang. 

At mere mention, the smile dropped from Anora’s face, reality coming back to her. Her eyes broke from Elissa’s tempting face, “How was Arl Wulff?”

Elissa blinked once, caught off guard by the sudden change in the topic. She did realize they were out in the open, maybe Elissa was losing her touch, or the will to hide what she felt. She’d shake that thought from her head. 

“As one could suspect from a man who has lost nearly everything. He’s pledged his support if Eamon refuses to fights.”

“Interesting. Very interesting,” Anora scanned up and down Elissa’s face, as if noticing Elissa was holding back from saying something, “What is it?”

“Nothing. Just...just something Arl Wulff said.”

Anora stood from the throne. Clasping her hands in front of her body, she motioned for Elissa to follow her. 

The pair strolled through the hallways of the Palace, passing guards and servants bowing their heads in respect to the passing Queen. 

“I know you and Arl Wulff’s stories are not so unlike.”

Elissa had nearly suspected that Anora were going to speak of Eamon. Perhaps it was Wulff simply  _ talking _ . Gossip and rumors were a way of life in the Court. Half truths, twisted point of views, and Arl Wulff would have every reason to think that of Eamon. 

“I am fine, Anora.”

“We both know nothing about this entire situation is  _ fine _ .”

They stopped near a bay window that overlooked down the main courtyard of the Palace. Beyond the gates to the walled Noble section of the City. The sun was shining down on the capitol, catching the gold and whites of the City Guard uniform that patrolled the Palace’s grounds. 

Elissa unabashedly studied Anora. Her hair was done to perfection again, having decided to leave behind her usual twin bun hairstyle for a braided single bun. A green and gold dress not so different from the one she wore during the Landsmeet covered her body. The centerpiece of it all was the crown on top of her golden head. 

With the rays of sun shining through the window and hitting the side of Anora’s face, Elissa found herself unable to look anywhere besides Anora.

The Queen sighed, rolling her neck. Her hand reached up to rub the sore muscles. Elissa glanced over her shoulder, seeing that they were alone for the moment, she took a moment of risk. 

Stepping closer and behind Anora, Elissa moved Anora’s hand away and replaced them with her own. Fingers going to softly rub her shoulders and neck. Anora went tensed for the moment, but the wing they were in was far and out of the way. 

Reason was overridden by Elissa’s fingers pressing into the knots in her shoulders. Anora gave up her mental fight and leaned her back into Elissa’s chest. 

“The weight is  _ crushing _ sometimes.” Anora whispered out. 

“I know. I understand.” Elissa mumbled out, pressing an open mouthed kiss to the side of Anora’s neck.

Before the Blight, Elissa didn’t understand. She had no idea the stress Anora was under every moment of the day. But now, now as  _ The Warden _ , Elissa understood some level of it. 

Anora settled into Elissa’s chest, her head rolling to rest on Elissa’s shoulder while her eyes looked out over the afternoon sun. Elissa’s hands slipped from Anora’s shoulders, running down along the sides of her body. 

Her arms curled around Anora’s waist and hugged her tight to her chest. Nose brushing against the long slender neck, placing another soft kiss on the delicate flesh. A shiver rolled down Anora’s spine, the headache plaguing her easing just for the moment. 

The warmth from Elissa’s body and the sun easing the stiffness in her bones. 

Elissa’s mind drifted to brighter days when both of them were younger. When their only worry of the day was finding enough time for each other. 

But Anora’s mind didn’t drift, her eyes stared on ahead. Over the walls of the Palace, over the roofs of the capital and out to where the sea laid. 

Anora knew, in the end, she had to do what was good for the Kingdom, what was right for its people. This was her sole duty, when she swore her most solemn oaths in the Chapel of Andraste she was transformed from Anora Mac Tir, to Anora Regina. 

Where Cailan failed, Anora must prevail over all else. She was not born a Theirin but she had become one. Everything she did in the approaching days and weeks would define the coming generations of Ferelden. 

The very identity of Ferelden was about to be shown. No more than when King Maric the Conqueror freed Ferelden from foreign rule. No more than when King Calenhad the Great united the whole of the Kingdom under a single banner. 

This alone, the legacy of the Theirin bloodline, the legacy of the Ferelden Crown, now rested upon her head. 

She had to be the stone in the flowing river that refused to flow. She had to be the steady hand guiding the needle. She had to be the symbol like each Theirin before her. To carry the spirit, pride, and soul  of each and every Ferelden. 

This was her fate, this was her destiny. This is why the Maker placed her onto this earth. 

The only question that remained was would she become the Queen that should've never been or the Queen that  _ was _ and  _ forever forth. _


	13. Chapter 13

 

_ Anora giggle swiftly turned into a moan at Elissa’s wandering hand. The blonde haired girl leaned back into the couch, with Elissa going to her knees in between Anora’s legs.  _

_ The future Queen’s skirt was slowly being pushed up by her lover’s warm hands. Anora leaned her head back onto the couch, eyes fluttering shut. She caught her bottom lip in between her teeth, biting down to keep her moans from spilling out.  _

_ This is what she was missing.  _

_ Elissa kissed up the smooth skin of her legs and inner thighs. Heat beginning to build in the pit of her stomach and building in between her legs. She was too excited for Elissa. Even she could feel how Elissa’s fingers dig into her flesh, holding herself back just from taking her.  _

_ Anora’s body pulsed at the thought. Elissa Cousland playing with her body like she owned it.  _

_ Just as Anora opened her mouth to give Elissa a hint, there came a sharp knock to the bedroom door, “Your Highness. His Majesty, the King, asks for your presence. Are you decent?”  _

_ It was one of the very few times she was glad that there were Court manners. Which meant asking permission to enter a young Lady’s room.  _

_ Anora gave a low groan, her face flushed red. Elissa was swift to disconnect from Anora, smooth her dress and get a long amount of distance between the two. The redhead tightening her braid and motioning to the door with her head.  _

_ “Eh, I, one moment!” Anora finally got out. Standing from the couch to smooth her own dress and pour herself a large glass of water.  _

_ Anora gulped down half the glass and prayed to the Maker she looked proper. Turning to face the door, her hands clasped in front of her body and standing up straight, “Please come in.” _

_ The doors to Anora’s chambers opened. A servant entering first and bowing, “Presenting His Majesty, the King.”  _

_ King Maric, even entering his 40’s, presented the same strength and boyish charm that he had during the rebellion decades before. Dressed in a rich red tunic and breeches, his simple gold crown and gold blonde hair shined from the rays of the sun in the room.  _

_ Anora and Elissa curtseyed to the King. Maric’s eyes flipped from Anora to Elissa, “Ah, Elissa. I shouldn’t be surprised to find you with Anora.”   _   
  


_ “Anora was telling me about the Crown’s plans for the Harvest Festival here at the Palace. I am glad Father and I will be staying longer." _

_ Maric’s lips twerked into a smirk, nodding his head at Elissa, “It is good to see Bryce. He never wants to leave Highever.” _

_ “You know the weather here never agrees with him.”  _

_ “Too true, too true. Elissa, could you please give me and Anora some time alone? There is a few things I must go over with my future daughter-in-law.”  _

_ “Of course, Your Majesty.” Elissa curtseyed again and fled from the room. Giving Anora a thumbs up as she left.  _

_ Maric turned his head to watch her leave, glancing back to Anora once they were alone, “Smart girl.” _

_ “What is needed of me, Your Majesty?” Anora’s fingers interlaced in front of her body.  _

_ Maric shook his head, “Come, Anora. You’re wasting away just a nice day by hiding in your dark rooms.” _

_ Anora trailed a step behind Maric. The King lead the way through the bright paths of the royal gardens. Several steps behind, to give them privacy, were Anora’s handmaidens and various members of Maric’s servents and knights.  _

_ “How many months until the day?” Maric broke the silence, looking over to Anora.  _

_ “8, Your Majesty. 8 months until the wedding.” _

_ “I know Cailan looks forward to it.” Maric gave her a easy grin, moving his hand out to pat her shoulder and to bring her in step with him.  _

_ That was a matter of opinion in the Court if Anora was a good fit for marriage, especially for the Crown. But none dared to put a motion forward before the Landsmeet. Beautiful, yes, but of common blood no matter how one tried to mask it.  _

_ Anora herself always found it bitterly humorous that Ferelden's nobility put as much stock into blood as their former overlords.  _

_ “I hold the Crown Prince quite close to my heart.” Anora knew her lines well, a very faint red blush appearing to her cheeks.  _

_ “You are a Mac Tir, Anora. A child of this land. And Cailan, a Theirin, the ancient bloodline of Kings. But when those wedding vows are exchanged, you too will become a Theirin just as he a Mac Tir. Your name might change, but what is in your heart will not.”  _

_ “I understand, Your Majesty.”  _

_ “Have you thought truthfully what it will mean to be Queen?” _

_ Of course she had. She had spent her entire life for that moment, to become the Queen of Ferelden, “Often, Your Majesty.”  _

_ “When you swear those most solemn oaths before the whole of the Landsmeet, the Chantry and the Maker, you will change. Anora Mac Tir, Anora Theirin, they will transform. And in its place will be Anora Regina, the Queen of Ferelden.” _

_ Anora nodded her head in response, allowing the King to speak. Still guiding the pair through the gardens, soft voice filling the afternoon air.  _

_ “You will carry the strength, the spirit, and the pride of Ferelden. You will join a small group of people who have ever been and will ever be. Many thirst for it and even those born into it do not understand the impact. But I believe, you do. Deep down, you know what stands before you.” _

_ “But I won’t become Queen until the Maker forsaken day that you pass, Your Majesty.” _

_ “I shall and on that day, the Kingdom will fall to you. And to Cailan. It’s security, it’s economy, and above all else, it’s people. You will become the symbol in which all are inspired upon.” _

_ Anora fell silent again. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Maric didn’t plan to have this same conversation with Cailan. It was too focused, perhaps it was Anora’s arrogance wishing Maric knew what type of man and king Cailan would be.  _

_ “You will be the center of the Landsmeet. There are many who will do everything within their power to stop you from ruling with a just and fair hand. Those are the same who thirst to wear the crown upon their head. They are the rotten roots of a pine that must be pulled with a delicate hand.”  _

_ “We Theirins have never ruled or dealt in absolutes. The nobility will fight among themselves until the last drop of blood is spilled, but you must be above it. The Crown must survived it, the Crown must win, always, Anora. You have a close ally in Elissa Cousland but even she one day might turn her back to you in the thirst for more power.” _

_ “Elissa would never, she is my best friend. Such bonds as strong as the one you hold with my Father.” _

_ Maric smiled a sad smile, looking away from Anora to look out over the garden, “My wife spent the later half of her life here in these gardens. Did you know that?” _

_ Anora was confused by the sudden change of the topic, “Ah, yes, Your Majesty.” _

_ “She grew most of these plants by herself, refusing all assistance. Stubborn woman some days but she understood more than I even realized at the time.” _

_ “I will tell you now, Anora, duty must win. Personal indulgence has ruined too many monarchies.  If Ferelden is to survive and begin to strive, the Crown must do what is best for their people. What is right, not what is easy. No matter how hard it is, the only way to rule is to separate heart from head.”  _

_ Maric stopped them, his hands going to gently grip both of Anora’s shoulders, forcing the girl to look up at him, “I won’t keep you any longer but think upon what I have said. And know that I have faith in the Queen you will become.” _

_ Anora found herself only able to nod. _

* * *

 

Anora slipped from her thoughts, blinking several times as reality came back to focus in front of her. Her breakfast laid untouched on the coffee table in front of her. The sight of food brought a wave of sickness over her.

The only thing keeping her from emptying her stomach again was the warm cup of tea mixed with milk. 

It was one of the few nights that Elissa hadn’t slipped into her bed once the Palace fell asleep. It was pathetic how badly she slept without Elissa’s arms around her. The bottle of wine sitting on one of the end table caught Anora’s eye. 

She had been drinking more than usual. Maybe that why she was feeling so sick. She wished that was the reason. 

A knock on the door pulled Anora from her thoughts. The doors to the sitting room opened with one of the Palace servants entered and bowing his upper body to the Queen, “Your Majesty, Ser Decker is asking for you.”

“See him in please, And fetch another pot of tea.” Anora forced a smile and waved the servant off. 

The greyed knight entered into the room. Dressed not in his armor for once and bowed deeply to the Queen and stood a few feet away, waiting for Anora to direct him if he was allowed to sit. 

Anora motioned for him to seat. Her hands finding her teacup to sip from, “You’re here unusually early. Did someone die?”

Decker smiled and shook his head. Taking a seat in the couch across from Anora’s, “Not yet, Your Majesty. You asked for me to have breakfast with you last night, if you recall.”

The only thing Anora could remember from last night was Maric’s unflinching stare. The weight he and her Father had placed on her shoulders as a teenager. Maybe that was why Elissa stayed away, turned off by her brooding.

“My mind has been...elsewhere.”

“It’s understandable, Your Majesty.”

“Ser Decker, it is before dawn and I am still sitting in my nightclothes, you may call me Anora here.”  

“Of course, Your...Anora.”

The sipping of tea helped focus Anora’s attention. There was a reason she called Decker for breakfast with her. 

“I must say in these past days yours have been a voice of sound reason. I am curious to hear how a Guard Colonel came so well versed in matters of state.” Anora placed her teacup back down onto the table. 

Decker was thrown off guard by Anora switching from casual to matters of business within a few passing moments. He cleared his throat to buy himself time to think of an answer, “To put it plainly, Your Majesty, I didn’t become the Colonel of the Guard by only showing up to my foot patrols.”

“King Maric put a great deal of trust in you. My late husband did the same. Do you have any desire to return? I am positive that Kylon would step down to have you back."

“No, Your Majesty, I do not. But I do wish to serve.”

“I have plenty of those. You are worth much more than that to me now. You have proven that.”

“Then what is it you require, Your Majesty?”

“A Chancellor, a Right-Hand. Maric had my Father, Cailan had Eamon. I need someone I can trust.”

“Perhaps the Warden Elissa?”

“You’re much too smart to be playing this. While Elissa would be a good choice for Chancellor, someone the rest of the Kingdom can rally behind. After the blight, I need a Chancellor who knows how to rebuild. Not on top of the fact that Elissa is the obvious choice and the one the politicians of the Kingdom are planning on.”

Decker fell silent, clasping his hands into his lap, “You wish for me then.”

“The situation with your sacking aside, you have always had a cool head. When the Army was away, it was you that helped me calm the city after Kallian’s killings. In a den of liars and snakes, a calm man is a sanctum.” 

“I am only the son of a hedge knight, Your Majesty. The position of Chancellor…”

“Then I will give you whatever Bannorn or Arling you wish to please the nobility. I care little that your birth was common. Look at myself, Richard.”

Decker bowed his head again. The last person to call him Richard was his mother on her deathbed. It felt so odd to hear someone say the name after the years inside of the City Guard. 

“You fought with King Maric during the rebellion. You helped build this Kingdom. You and others might not think that, but it is the undeniable truth. You kept peace and order inside the walls of Denerim, you were one of the few good men that my Father could rely on. Now I ask you do the same for me.”

“Will I be allowed time to think upon your offer?”

Anora’s lips formed into a small smirk, waving her hand, “Yes. Now with that out of the way, we have breakfast coming for us.”

* * *

 

The two men only caught a few passing glances as they walked through the streets of the Market. The blue and silver surcoats of the Grey Wardens keeping any angry political commentators from approaching the older of the two.

Color was returning to Loghain’s face. His skin no longer the unhealthy pale and approaching closer to his usual skin tone. It caught a few passing look, mumbling commoners pointing and staring at the sight of the former Teyrn. 

“Did you fight during the rebellion?” Loghain asked to the Senior Grey Warden next to him. 

Riordan shook his head, “I was too young. By the time it was over I had my eyes set upon becoming a Warden.”

In the days following the Landsmeet, this was the most talking Loghain had down to Riordan. The Senior Warden figured this was a good step forward in getting Loghain formed into a true Warden. 

“Yours was a choice?”

“Aye, I joined near the same time as Duncan. Though his wasn’t a choice.”

Loghain nodded, “I heard. Cailan was fond of having Duncan telling the story of how he was conscripted.” 

“Do you believe the late King wished to be conscripted?” A half smirk appeared on the corners of Riordan’s lips. 

Loghain was surprised for a moment, snorting, “Would’ve made a lot of things easier.” 

“There is something to be found in Duncan’s story. It wasn’t a choice and it took times of struggling to find his purpose. He did though, and that was to be a Warden. As I have told Warden Elissa and Alistair, the Order is not so easily separated from.”

A painful clench came to Loghain’s heart, remembering how it felt like his blood was on fire during his Joining. 

“If I am lucky, I will die in this Blight.”

“Wardens are absolutely key to ending a Blight. In times before multinational armies were lead by hundreds of Wardens.”

“I do wonder why the Order have only sent you during such a  _ historical  _ event.” 

Riordan stopped in his step, twisting his body to the side to stare at Loghain. The two men were equal in height with Riordan being more stockier than Loghain.

“It matters not. I am here and we will do what we must.”

“Is the Order too busy being in the back pocket of the Empress to care?”

Riordan rolled his neck, a wave of anger rushing through the pit of his stomach, “We will complete the mission with what we have,  _ Warden _ .”

“Do you honestly believe we will end it?”

“Killing an Archdemon always comes with sacrifices.” Riordan mumbled before twisting and starting walking again. 

“There is nothing I wouldn’t do for my country.” Loghain fell in step side by side with Riordan. 

“Is that what you told yourself at Ostagar? I had friends there, Ducan among them.”

Loghain became quiet at Riordan’s quip. The anger and color leaving his cheeks as soon as it had been there. 

“What I have done I will answer for in front of the Maker.”

“We aren’t judges, Loghain. Blood mages, rebels, thugs, bandits, kinslayers; this is the reality of the Grey Warden Order. All of our hands have spilled blood on them. As long as you stand with us as the barrier between Thedas and Darkspawn, your sacrifice will be remembered kindly.”

Loghain couldn’t find the words respond to that, settling with a nod and a short grunt. 

“Usually, when a new Warden joins the Order, they are attached to a Senior Warden for their first year. They’re trained, taught how to read and write, and disciplined.”

“Are you going to sit me down on your knee and teach me the traditions of the great Wardens?”

Riordan decided to sigh instead of making a comment back at Loghain. 

“I know how to fight, Riordan. I know how to command. I know what my purpose is here.”

“And what purpose is that?”

“To die in this bloody Blight.” 

“That might be Elissa’s aims but not mine. You were born anew during the Joining, Warden. Your second life lays in front of you.”

Loghain snorted in response, “I said the same when I became a Teyrn. I believe I am on my third or fourth life, depending who you ask.”

Riordan twisted around again to face Loghain. This time the two men were closer in the quiet side street. The Senior Warden pressing his finger into Loghain’s cool metal breastplate, “You cheated death in the Landsmeet chamber, Loghain. You have a target on the back of your head. No matter how much you hate it, this is your future and your present. Accept it. We have a job to do.”

There was something about the bluntness in Riordan that Loghain could respect.

* * *

 

_ "No, you don’t understand. None of you humans understand anything. You pretend to listen but all you’re doing is hearing.” _

_ “You allowed the man who sold your people into slavery to live!” _

The sound of doors opening caught Anora from the screaming memory of Shianni’s voice. The empty space Alistair left glared like an open wound along the Grey Company. Spread across the Royal Family dining room, the quiet conversation paled in comparison to how they usually were. 

Leliana stared at the bottom of her wine glass, a pitcher of wine specially reserved for her. Elissa and Duran spoke quietly with each other, still waiting for the ravens from Dwarves and Elves. 

Her eyes settled on Elissa’s side profile. The square and define line of her jak. The tight red braided hair with strands falling out. Green eyes looking brighter than usual. Even now, she could feel those strings pulling at the warmth in her heart. 

Shianni’s whispering in her ear pulled Anora from allowing her mind to drift to Elissa, “ _ Empty promises. You are the Queen, you can change this.” _

She had allowed Elissa control. The painful truth was if Anora was forced to make the decision, the lessons from Maric might not have been strong enough for duty to win over emotion. 

Before Anora could allow herself to drift further into her thoughts, a male voice next to her snapped her attention away, “You look thirsty. Maybe something a bit stronger than wine, yes?”

Anora turned her head to find Zevran looking at her with an arched brow.  The Antivan elf giving her a grin and tilting his head to the bottle of amber whiskey sitting in front of him. 

“Antivan whiskey?

“Only the finest for my Queen.” The grin grew larger. Zevran popped the cork on the bottle and poured the pair a short glass each. 

Anora had been drinking wine since lunch that day and knew she shouldn’t switch to something stronger. Instead of saying no, she took the glass and sipped it slowly, eyes glancing over to Elissa, “I hate the taste of whiskey. Burns every time.”

“Duran always says it’s the burning that makes you feel alive.”

“I wouldn’t trust a dwarf when it comes to liquor.” Anora tilted her head to where Oghren was 6 tankards in. 

“You look troubled, my Queen.”

Anora eyes moved back to Zevran. Studying the elf carefully. He was attractive, she wasn’t so blind to see that. She might only enjoy the company of woman but Anora knew when someone was good looking or not. 

With that tanned skin, olive skin and black hair. The tattoo on his face only attracted more attention to his good looks. 

“You look rather relax for travelling with Elissa Cousland.”

“Are you saying our dear Warden  _ attracts _ danger?”

“Attracts it? It  _ throws _ itself at her like a eager virgin.”

Zevran laughed into his glass of whiskey. Earning a raised brow from Morrigan who was the only one close enough to hear Anora’s remark. 

“You need to relax more, my Queen. All those stress lines and wrinkles are ruining your complexion.”

“And how would you recommend doing that, my Crow?”

“I know of this whore down at the Pearl who can do this trick with her ton…”

Anora hid her flushed red cheeks by downing her glass of whiskey. A small coughing fit over taking her from the burning feeling and how quickly she drank it down.  

Elissa sent her a look of concern with the rest of the table only sparing Anora and Zevran a glance. 

“You need to be more open with your desires. The merchant families of Anvita would only blink if they heard you prefer woman. And would try to sell their prettiest daughter to you.”  Zevran lowered his voice, understanding that Anora was not comfortable with him if he spoke too loudly.

The hours of drinking had dulled the edges of Anora’s sense. If she was sober, she would’ve ended this conversation before it started. Instead, the thought entered her mind that Zevran spoke some sense. 

“Myself and a few others are heading to the Pearl tonight. Perhaps you and Elissa could use the alone time, yes? Destress.” Zevran winked and then stood. 

Zevran met Duran, Morrigan, Oghren, and Leliana who lingered near the door to the dining room. The other members quickly exited heading to their rooms. Soon enough it was only Elissa and Anora. 

The Warden approached to Anora slowly, “H..how are you? It feels like I haven’t seen you all day.”

A fact Anora had made sure of. It was one of the few times in her life that she felt uncertain around Elissa. She couldn’t escape Shianni’s whispers no matter how hard she tried to ignore them. 

Elissa came close to Anora. The Queen’s hand reaching out for Elissa’s muscular forearm, fingers digging through the material of her gameson, craving for the feel of Elissa’s skin. 

The look in Anora’s face spoke louder than any words she could say. Using her grip on Elissa’s forearm, the Queen stood from the chair. Her other hand going to grasp the back of Elissa’s neck and in one fluid motion, pressed their lips together. 

The kiss was desperate, hot and needy. It wasn’t unfamiliar for them, kisses like that were common during their early relationship. When confused feelings were overridden by carnal lust. 

Anora’s hand slipped up from Elissa’s forearm. Over her arm and squeezing Elissa’s body through the material of the gameson. She already wanted more. She wanted those whispers to be ended. 

Elissa used her hips to walk Anora backwards a few feet until her ass hit the side of the dining room table. Breaking the kiss for the need of hair, Anora’s hand on the back of Elissa’s neck went to grab her red braid and pull down gently. 

The side of Elissa’s long neck was exposed to Anora’s lips. The Warden’s eyes fluttered shut at the feel. 

Anora twisted the two around, pinning Elissa’s taller body with hers. Every inch of their bodies pressed together. The blonde’s lips seeked and found a sensitive spot on Elissa’s neck. The Queen’s teeth nipping at the tender spot.

Elissa’s hands found Anora’s ass through the material of her dress and squeezed tightly, growling back a groan of pleasure. 

“Ww..we can’t here.” Elissa whispered out. 

“I want to. I am the Queen.” Anora breathed into Elissa’s ear, nipping at the shell of Elissa’s ear. 

_ “Anyone could walk in _ ..”

“Let them watch how I fuck  _ the Warden _ then.” Anora leaned over again to claim Elissa’s lips. 

This time, something was off. Anora’s kissing was too bruising. The weight of her body pressing into hers felt suffocating. Her hands trying to take over the gameson tearing at whatever skin she could find. 

Something didn’t  _ feel _ right. 

Fighting through the lust, Elissa was the warrior of the two. Elissa slipped her hands from Anora’s ass and grasped her hips. Pusing Anora back to disconnect their lips, Elissa focused her green eyes down onto Anora’s face. 

The move made Anora stop cold in her step. Elissa ran her right hand up the side of Anora’s body until she gently clasped the underside of Anora’s chin. Thumb brushing over Anora’s bruised lips. 

Elissa saw that tears were starting to build behind Anora’s eyes, “Shhh.”

Elissa reconnected their lips, gentle this time. The kiss was only the soft brushing lips, it felt like ice on their red lips. She dragged her nose across Anora’s cheek, nuzzling the soft skin,“Relax. It’s okay. I  _ know _ .”

Anora nuzzled her face into the side of Elissa’s neck, placing a soft kiss to her delicate red flesh,  _ “Please.” _

Elissa pressed a familiar feeling kiss to the tip of Anora’s nose. A watery smile coming to Anora’s face, in which she followed up with a kiss to the redhead’s chin. 

It didn’t take long for the Queen and Warden to slip their way back to the Queen’s chambers. The air in between them being thick until Elissa placed a kiss to the top of Anora head, “Do you still have those rubbing oils?”

Anora pressed her back into Elissa’s front. Her lover’s hands going to her hips and then running up her sides. Elissa’s voice near Anora’s ear earned a whimper from Anora, “Yes."

“Get comfortable. I think you need a massage.”

Instead, as Elissa tried to walk away, Anora’s hand flew out to grab Elissa’s hand, “No, I...just hold me,  _ please. _ ”

Anora always got what she wanted in the end. Elissa could never resist her for long. Elissa begun to pull the Queen to the nearest couch. Anora’s hands unclasping Elissa’s sword belt and the redhead hands unclasping the Queen’s cloak. 

Soon enough the two were cuddling on one of the couches in the Queen’s sitting room. With Anora laid out in between Elissa’s legs, chests pressed together. Anora’s soft breath tickled Elissa’s neck, the Queen’s eyes attached to their connected hands. 

Elissa had been blessed with a natural tan that didn’t look out of place with her red hair. Furthered by her time spent outdoors she caught many more than passing glances. 

In comparison, Anora’s skin was fair. No matter how much Anora tried to become darker, it was to no avail. She’d turn red and then turn back to her pale skin tone. 

The tips of Elissa’s fingers on her free hand ran up the curve of Anora’s spine, reaching to the point where her blonde hair was still done in a tight bun. Expert fingers ghosted up to undo the bun and braid, allowing Anora’s blonde hair to flow freely down. 

“You need a haircut.” Elissa commented, fingers running through the silky soft hair. The hair going past Anora’s shoulder blades now. 

“How kind of you to point out. How did I get so lucky?” Anora whispered into Elissa’s neck. 

“I speak the truth.”

The small giggle that followed was needed. Anora felt the tension leaving her body with each moment pressed to Elissa’s warm body. 

“I always imagined how life would be without Cailan’s presence. How I would rule, how I would love you more openly. Now I have it and I can’t fight the bitterness taste.” Anora kept her voice soft and no higher than a whisper. 

“We both knew you ruled this Kingdom even when Cailan was alive.”

“But he was still King, and a Theirin by blood. Now there is only me. A part of me wonders how he would do if our positions had been switched. If I had died at Ostagar and he now faced the task of ending the Blight with you.” 

“Your Father would’ve blamed him for your death and killed him. It might even make for a worse situation.”

“How kind that you think I am the only thing keeping this Kingdom together.”

“Minus Eamon and a few bitter Houses, you are.”

“I made a personal enemy of the Grand Cleric of Ferelden.”

“As if you and her were friends to start with.”

The words in Anora’s mouth failed, settling instead to sigh into Elissa’s body and shift closer. Nestling herself closer to Elissa. All she was really doing was rubbing her body against Elissa’s. 

“What’s troubling you?” Elissa asked. The redhead knew that if she didn’t bring up the hidden worry in Anora, the Queen would sit and sit on it until it was rotting in her stomach. 

“I am the Queen and yet I feel as I don’t rule,” Anora’s lips pressed softly into the side of Elissa’s neck, needing something to distract herself while she spoke, “I told Shianni that I didn’t have a choice with my Father, but I did. I had every choice to stop you, but I didn’t.”

Elissa’s eyes fluttered shut at Anora’s kisses to her neck. She knew it was only to keep the two of them calm but she couldn’t help to feel the smallest bite of desire rise in her. 

“You wanted Loghain to live, Anora.”

“I  _ shouldn’t _ . I  _ can’t. _ He did so many  _ terrible _ things to me, you, this Kingdom. What type of Queen am I that I can’t pass judgement on such an obvious evil man.”

Elissa’s arm curled around Anora’s waist, squeezing the blonde tight, “I don’t think he’s evil. He did bad things, yes. But evil. I have seen evil, Anora.”

“He sold people to blood mages, Ellie.”

The quality of mercy. 

The quality of the Maker. To forgive, is that why Elissa had stayed her hand. Isn’t that why she didn’t slam that blade down into the side of Loghain’s neck and end it. She had heard it say often that mercy was a double blessing, that to the one receiving and that to the one giving. 

Where was the double blessing in this? What blessings had fallen to Elissa besides for a selfish desire. What blessing did it give to Loghain whose only desire had been to die on the Landsmeet floor. 

Elissa opened her mouth to speak but found no words to spill out. She slowly shut it again and leaned her head back into the pillows, eyes screwing shut tightly. 

Anora shifted on the couch. Placing either leg on either side of Elissa’s legs and sat down onto the redhead’s lap. Elissa opened an eye at the movement, watching as Anora shifted in her lap, blonde hair free flowing t popped up on the back of her elbows to sit up straighter. 

Elissa inched up all the way, her hands wrapping around Anora’s hips silently as the Queen’s pale fingers traced over the edges of the Elissa’s face. Thumbs brushing over her cheekbones, index fingers over the faint light scar on her jaw. 

Their conversation was wordless, blue and green eyes mixing together in a calm moment. Their faces were mere inches apart, Elissa watched as Anora slowly replaced her fingers with her lips, pressing a soft kiss to the scar. 

Anora’s mouth dropped downwards over the side of Elissa’s face, forcing the redhead’s neck to arch to the side as the blonde’s mouth kissed over the sensitive flesh. 

Elissa’s arms tensed around Anora’s body, a small breathless moan spilling from her lips as the gentle moving of Anora’s lips. 

The Queen’s mouth snaked back up to near Elissa’s ear, lips kissing on the lobe before she whispered, “Enough of it. We’ll only think and think about it until every last detail has been looked at each different way. It’s done.”

A wave of hot breath rolled from Elissa’s nose as she sighed. Was that the plan? To ignore it? 

“There she is.” Elissa mumbled out, kissing the corner of Anora’s lips. 

“There she is?”

“My  _ Anora _ , my  _ Queen _ .” Elissa’s mouth circled around Anora’s ear, placing another kiss. 

There was something about Elissa’s calling her Queen in just a purring tone that made Anora shiver in pleasure. 

Anora arched her neck to the side, Elissa’s strong hands finding the front laces of her dress and played with them, “My  _ Queen _ .”

The second time it was almost a growl, sending another shot of pleasure to boil in her stomach.

* * *

 

Much in the past 30 odd years since rising to the height of nobility, Loghain often took night walks along the Palace’s walls. Him and Maric were commonly seen out here after long days at Court or a special meeting of the Landsmeet where Eamon would spend hours listening to himself speak.

Tonight there was only him and the cold nightfall air. 

A fur lined cloaked kept most of the coldness from nipping at his old bones. He wore only the leather armor he usually wore underneath his plate, not wanting to admit that he was getting too old to bear wearing it every moment of his life. 

Loghain came to stop at the tallest part of the wall. Facing out towards the direction of Fort Drakon and the river that separated the City in two. 

Using the stone battlement as support, Loghain climbed up onto the edge of the wall, his hand keeping him steady. The moon was high, the lights of the City and sounds not quite reaching to this high point. 

His eyes turned down to the ground fall below him. It would be enough to kill him. All it would take was one little shove and then he would fly. 

“That would be quite a waste of time.” The spirit healer’s voice broke Loghain from staring at the ground. 

Looking over his shoulder, the moonlight shined down  right on the side of the elder mage’s face. Strands of silver hair shined in the moonlight, midnight blue eyes nearly impossible to see from the darkness. 

“Of course it’s you.”

“Would you prefer the Warden?”

“Not at all.” Loghain looked away from Wynne and back out over the City. Sighing loudly, he gently eased himself down, going to sit on the wall with his feet hanging out over the edge. 

The mage’s body was mostly covered by a thick wolf pelt cloak, the slender woman drew closer to Loghain. She leaned forward on the wall cutout right next to where Loghain sat. 

“Did she send you?” Loghain asked, not looking away from the city. 

“Maker no. I haven’t seen her since dinner. She and the Queen appeared to have business to settle.”

“I am sure they did.” 

“Then why are you out here. Couldn’t sleep?”

“Aye.”

“Haunted by nightmares?”

“Don’t sound so thrilled, Healer. It’s unbecoming of you.”

Wynne snorted and shook her head, “For a man in his later years, you act like a child.”

“It’s a part of my charm.”

“I didn’t know that the Hero of River Dane was so bitterly sarcastic.”

“How do you think I survived years of politics?”

Wynne laughed with even Loghain chuckling lowly into the night air. A almost comfortable silence fell in between the two. 

“There are potions I can give you to give you a dreamless sleep.”

“I thought you hated me, Healer.”

“You will be little use for your Order if you are sleep deprived and trying to jump to your death.”

“I  _ wasn’t trying to jump to my death. _ ” Loghain hissed out, his face turning to Wynne.

Wynne only raised a silver brow in response, challenging him. 

“I don’t want your potions.”

The brow dropped back to it’s regular position. A puzzling look appearing on her matured features, “What do you mean by that?”

Loghain’s stare went back to the City and focusing on the sea out over the buildings, “What do you think, Mage?”

“Forgiveness is not out of anyone’s reach. Not even yours, Loghain.” 

“Ah yes, I can see it now. Kneeling before the Grand Cleric begging for forgiveness for what I have done. Or even better the Divine herself!”

“I didn’t mean a Chantry member, Loghain. Forgiveness  is between you and the Maker. Between your soul and the good spirits of the Fade.”

“The good spirits of the Fade.” Loghain snorted, running a hand down over his tired and worn features. 

“You did evil, Loghain, but there is more to that. On the Landsmeet Floor, the Lord Regent Loghain died. The man who did that evil, that part of your soul that was tainted. You have the chance of another life in the Order, one to repair and destroy the evil in this world.” 

The humor died in Loghain’s stomach, unable to turn his eyes away from the city, him hanging onto every of Wynne’s words, “Another life. Riordan said something similar today.”

“Because it is the truth, Loghain.”

“Why? Why do you care? Before you wanted me dead.”

“A part of me still does, Loghain. But that is the struggle of every living person. The balance between good and evil that raged inside of them. Do I think sparing you was the right thing? Maker no, it was the easy thing. For better or worse, it was done. Do not waste it like so many others.”

“We all fall, Loghain. Even Elissa, even myself. It is how you rise again.”

Loghain didn’t respond, turning to silence to answer Wynne. The seconds twisted longer into minutes and when Wynne realized he wasn’t going to speak more, she turned to walk away. 

“Thank you, Wynne.”  

Wynne gave him a soft smile and a wave of her hand before walking along the wall away from where Loghain sat.

* * *

In the Pearl, the Archdemon could be bearing down on the city itself and not a soul inside would care to look. Song, coin and liquor flowed like water in a rushing river. Elf, humans, dwarves of each and every gender. Some willing to do anything for a few silver and a few more for a gold piece. 

It was the type of place Zevran enjoyed. No matter if you were a noble, Chantry sister or mercenary; they could all enjoy a whore of their liking without judgement here. 

Zevran eyes were drawn to the familiar curvy form and long toned leg peeking out with each subtle move, “I have not introduced you to Isabela yet, have I?

“You mean the pirate?”

“ _ Ship Captain _ , Duran.”

“Aye, aye; whatever. You keep on staring at her. Invite her over.”

“She’s busy.” Zevran tapped Duran on the shoulder, causing the dwarf to look up in the direction of the pirate. 

Leliana sat alone at the end of the bar sipping from her drink. Her eyes were still red and puffy from the hours of crying earlier that day. She had thought going out and trying to enjoy herself would help but the pain refused to leave her. 

If Alistair knew where she was, the man would surely burst. 

But the man Leliana fell in love with was gone now. Replaced with whatever  _ Eamon _ had created. 

Drowning the rest of her drink, Leliana turned on the stool just in time for a curvy dark haired female form to slip in between her legs.

Leliana’s bright blue eyes went wide at the woman who had stepped into her personal space. Olive skin even darker than Zevran’s, bright brown eyes and dark black hair; she had the face of Rivita nobility. 

With the body of a goddess. Large full rounded breasts to soft curves all brought out by the tight white corset she wore. 

“You look like you’re in the need of a night of forgetting.” The woman  _ purred _ . 

Leliana was flushed for only a few passing moments until she found her voice, “No. I am good. I was just leaving.”

“But you just sat down. Humor me.”

From across the room, Zevran and Duran watched on where Isabela had approached close to Leliana.

“Didn’t mention she was a fan of the fairer sex.”

“One can’t be picky and choosy with gender.”  

For whatever reason, Leliana found herself unable to leave from her spot. Those soft brown eyes with hues of gold demanded every moment of her attention. The feeling rising through her stomach tasted any better than any wine she could drink. 

And she was well into her 6th bottle for the day. 

Duran's eyes wandered to the other end of the bar where Morrigan sat alone sipping a glass of wine, sending glares Leliana’s way.

“You think the reason Morrigan is always a cunt is because she wants Alistair?” Duran asked over to Zevran. 

“Or Leliana. Think of the gossip.” Zevran wiggled his eyebrows, eyes dancing from Leliana and Isabela to Morrigan. 

“I bet Alistair.” 

“Done. 5 silver.”

“Deal.”

In that moment, coming from the direction of the entrance was yet another familiar face. Wide blue eyes, youthful features and platinum blonde hair free flowing; Kallian was looking better every day. 

A smile cracked onto Zevran’s face, waving over to Kallian, “Join us, Kallian.”

Kallian had to pass next to Morrigan to get to the table where the dwarf and elf sat drinking. In doing she, she missed the look Morrigan sent her. It also meant that Zevran and Duran saw the full front of it. 

The burning look that caught aflame in Morrigan’s gold colored eyes. Scanning down the back of Kallian’s tight fitting tunic and beechers. How she lifted the rim of her glass up to drink heavily from the red wine, eyes refusing to look away. Enjoying every single moment of the stare. 

“Does that mean I win the bet then?” Duran commented to Zevran as Kallian joined them. 

“What bet?” The elf woman asked with wide eyes, looking in between the dwarf and elf. 

“Nothing, my dear.” Zevran grinned, pouring Kallian a glass of wine. 

With Kallian’s back to Morrigan, the witch was free to stare on unabashedly. Ignoring Duran and Zevran’s looks in her direction. 

“Thank you. Sorry I was so late, Kylon was trying to talk me out of coming down. Saying the Pearl isn’t the type of place for me.”

“It’s because the dear Colonel wants you all for himself.” Duran offered an easy going smile, lifting his tankard up to sip from. 

A slight blush formed from Kallian’s neck and touched her cheeks. The blonde shook her head, “No, no. I…”

Zevran and Duran’s faces darkened. The easy going smiles slipping. It was easy to forgot about Kallian. 

The elf noticed how the two men’s smiles had dropped. The forced smile on Kallian’s face fell, her eyes darting to the table. Her shaky hands slipped to hide in her lap, she knew this was a bad idea. 

“I..I..I’m sorry, I shoul…”

“Please.”

“Stay.”

The elf and dwarf glanced in between each other, realizing that their plan of a worry free night was already slipping away. Clearing his throat, Duran passed a handful of coins over to Kallian, “How about you go and get yourself something to drink, yeah?”

Kallian smiled in return and stood. She didn’t want to say that the thought of liquor both sounded wonderful or threatened to bring back memories she didn’t want to remember. 

The pair looked back over to Leliana and Isabela to find that the two women were now laughing up against each other. Leliana still sat on her barstool with Isabelle standing in between her legs. 

“Then Elissa, stark naked holding only her sword comes  _ screaming _ out the bushes thinking we’re under attack. The look on her was was  _ priceless _ .” The more Leliana drank, the more her accent came out. And the more she forgot the pain that lingered in her heart. 

Isabela laughter filled the bard’s ears. The pirate’s hand ran up the curve of Leliana’s arm, “I think I would’ve liked that sight. Only if it had been you the naked on though.”

Leliana’s face went red, the look in Isabela’s eyes sent a shot of raw wet pleasure to inbetween her legs. Turning, she downed what was left of her glass and motioned for someone to refill it, “Oh really? And why would you want to see that?”

Anything was better than lingering in this hole that Alistair had left. 

On the other end of the bar, Kallian placed her order and glanced over to Morrigan. Giving the dark haired witch a wide smile, “Hi Morrigan.”

The witch drowned her red wine and moved off her bar stool. The black and purple robes were tight and form fitting in the right places. Not wearing an undertunic or leather armor, flashes of pale white skin was put onto show. 

Kallian’s mouth opened to speak but found herself unable to. There was a certain aura surrounding the witch. Quiet subtle power rolling off the witch’s slender shoulders. 

Morrigan came closer, right arm resting on the barkeep and her left placing itself onto the small of Kallian’s back, “‘Tis a thrill to see you doing well.”

“Makes a lot of sense really. Think about it.” Zevran commented to Duran. 

“The whole ‘I hate men’ attitude makes so much sense now.”

Morrigan’s hand on the small of her back made her flitch and move away. Not missing the way how the witch’s eyes widened, “S..s..sorry. I don’t like being touched."

Kallian was able to ramble out, her cheeks flushing red with a mix of shame. She was making another scene. Morrigan was just trying to be nice to her and here she was ruining it all with her  _ issues _ . 

The elf’s hand on the counter was shaking again, an act she couldn’t get rid of no matter how hard she tried. She placed her other hand over it, hoping to hide it from the other bar goers. 

She missed the way Morrigan’s eyes softened, a sight that looked oddly nice on the witch’s sharp features. 

“Did Morrigan just become  _ soft _ ?” Duran mumbled to Zevran.

“My, my, would you look at that.”

Morrigan’s hand was quick to leave Kallian’s back through her eyes zeroed in on Kallian’s shaky hand. She could see the elf’s long ears twitching through strands of platinum blonde hair. The sound and sights of the brothel might be a little too much for her to bear. 

The witch finished her glass, glancing over to Duran and Zervan at their table. A bunch of fools. Morrigan leaned over to place her warm hand over Kallian’s, “Would you care to accompany me on a walk? I find this air stale with whiskey and regrets.” 

By the Gods, Morrigan’s hand was  _ warm _ . It was the only thought that ran through Kallian’s head. Soft and warm. She knew her own hands were freezing but the shaking eased with the witch’s hand over hers. 

“S..s..sure.” Kallian mumbled out, blue eyes looking up to catch the witch’s gold gaze.

Duran was snapped from watching Kallian and Morrigan by Zevran slamming his glass down, “Look at that!”

Across the bar, Leliana and Isabela were locked in a heat embrace. Lips clashing together with Isabela walking the red head bard through the Pearl to the rooms for rent in the back of the house. 

Morrigan glanced over to see Leliana being lead away but her attention swiftly refocused on the elf before her. The high curves of cheekbones to the bright blue eyes. There was something still young in Kallian that had refused to die under Howe’s skilled hand. It was something that Morrigan could respect. 

Hidden underneath the layers of softness, a hard core that had survived the worst in humanity. It interested Morrigan more than it should. Or the drive to protect those layers of softness that Kallian had left, some hidden drive to protect the young woman mixed with sexual frustration. 

The witch was attractive. Kallian was drawn to her, like most of the woman that Elissa had around her. Each with different auras of power, strong willed fighters to craft mysterious witches. 

There was something more in Morrigan’s eyes, something that lingered just beyond the surface. It made Kallian’s heart beat up into her throat. 

Drowning the rest of her wine glass, Morrigan tucked har arm through Kallain’s and lead the way out of the Pearl and into the night air of the city. 

Zevran leaned back into his chair and went to pop his feet up on the table in front of him, “I’ll say that was a successful plan.”

“Shouldn’t we keep an eye on Morr..”

“I think she’s more than capable of keeping an eye on Kallian.”

* * *

 

Kallian found Morrigan’s quiet company better than most. Shianni was always so angry, Valendarin wanted to talk to her about  _ everything _ . Kylon wanted something from her, she just had yet to figure out, or maybe, didn’t want to know what he wanted. 

With the witch’s arm laced through hers, Kallian could fool herself for a little bit. Morrigan’s skin felt soft to the touch underneath her. Her own shakiness had stopped for the moment thankfully, allowing her to focus on the gentle feel of the witch’s warmth. 

“D...id you live your entire life in the Wilds?” Kallian asked, looking up to the witch through the darkness. 

“Mostly. I spent some time with the certain tribes of the Chasind, learnt much of their ancient ways. I would adventure into the local villages when I grew bored.”

“But, you were by yourself?”

“I had my Mother.” 

Kallian licked her lips, looking away from Morrigan and over the street. There were few souls passing back and forth, on their way to the Pearl. This section of the city was cleaner than the others. The brothel owners paid way to make sure the guards partoled these parts often. 

“W..was it really true that she was a dragon?”

Morrigan snorted loudly, “Duran and Zevran tell you the story?”

Kallian nodded slowly, a small smile coming to her lips at the memory. 

“She shapeshifted into one. I was not present but I know the tale and I know my Mother well. I expect she’s something far more.”

Kallian nodded, not wanting to push what Morrigan meant by that. 

“On the topic of Mothers, what of yours?” Morrigan looked down to the elf. 

A few memories flashed through the full front of Kallian’s mind. Her Mother’s calm voice training her, her smile, the same blue eyes she had. Then the dread of running home to find her body covered on the table, the quiet funeral. 

“Her name was Adaia. Taught me how to fight and survive out there in the world. It was because of her Iona was able to get a job working under some Highever noble.”

Morrigan nodded, allowing Kallian to speak at ease. 

“My Father still hasn’t told me how she died. All I know was that she was killed by humans. It’s something that is always a fear when you leave the Alienage walls. I just never thought it would happen to her.”

There was many things Kallian never expected to happen to her. 

Morrigan’s hand squeezed her own, chasing away the dark thoughts for a moment longer. The elf fell silent, allowing the witch to guide their way through the streets. 

* * *

The first rays of sun broke Leliana from her restful sleep. A blissful feeling rolling through her body as the sunshine warmed her naked skin. Stretching like a cat, a small moan rolled from her tongue as she felt that blissful feeling all over her body.

It was then, when she peeked one eye open, that reality came crashing around her alongside a thundering headache. 

In the same nakedness with red love bites covering her curvy body was the woman who wooed her last night. 

Guilt, shame and above all else, the need to throw up, blasted through her body all at once. Leliana rolled from the bed and quickly found her thrown clothes. Thanking the Maker that they had not been torn during the intense sex. 

After dressing and throwing up into a chamber pot, Leliana slipped from the room, only taking one glance at Isabela naked body. 

In the main lobby of the whore house, she found Duran and Zevran already enjoying breakfast. The smell of food reminded Leliana that she barely ate all of yesterday. In reality, she had barely ate since Alistair left. 

The thought of Alistair felt like an intense stabbing pain in her side. Taking a breath to steady her racing head and heard, the bard marched over towards the two, taking a seat at the table and began jugging from a pitcher of water. 

“Good morning to you too, Leliana.” Duran grumbled, brushing the remains of egg from his black beard. 

“Isabela moans kept half of the Pearl up last night, give her a break.” Zevran grin and winked at Leliana, taking a bite of his toast. 

“Not.a.word.” Leliana paused long enough to growl out before returning to drinking the rest of the pitcher. 

“Look at that, she’s actually  _ speaking _ to us again.” 

“And all it took was a spirited one night stand.”

It was mornings such as these that Leliana hated that Duran and Zevran met each other. 

The table became silence, allowing Leliana to pile food upon her plate and fill her mouth with as much bacon and eggs she could fit. 

All the while, Kallian slipped into the lobby. Dressed fully back into her outfit from last night, blonde hair done in a high ponytail. 

Kallian silently joined the table and dished her own plate, “Good night everyone?”

Duran smiled at her, knocking his glass of wine back to sip, “You seem well rested.” 

Whatever Kallian was going to say was stopped short by Morrigan walking into the lobby. Dressed in her usual black and purple, the witch strolled towards the table. With all purpose in each step.

“Morrigan gave me a potion that gave me a dreamless night of sleep.” Kallian explained. 

Zevran watched as the witch ran her fingers along the tops of Kallian’s shoulders as she passed, claiming the seat next to her, “A better plan than I’m sure you two dreamed up.”

“Offensive.” The elf and dwarf remarked together.

* * *

 

“Where the flying fuck is everyone?” 

Elissa stood at the front of the dining room, hands on her hips. Usually by now, all members of her travelling company would be down and starting their breakfast.

Instead today, there was not a single person besides the team of kitchen servants waiting to serve said breakfast. 

“I believe Madam Wynne and the Qunari went into the City earlier this morning. To join the rest of your companions, my Lady.” A servant answered Elissa’s yell. 

“Of course they fucking did.” Elissa turned on her heel, mumbling the curse to herself.

* * *

 

By the time Elissa made it down to the Pearl, breakfast had turned into second breakfast with liquor laced juice for those needing help with their morning after. 

Three tables had been put together so everyone could sit and eat with each other. The workers of the Pearl looked pleased by the burst of business, Elissa only prayed that rumors didn’t reach Eamon or other nobles about her companions spending a night at a whore house. 

Elissa didn’t even want to know how Wynne convinced Sten and Shale to follow her down to  _ a whore house _ . Not that Orghen would need much convincing. 

The Warden crossed her arms over her chest and squared her shoulders. Standing less than 10 feet away from her feasting friends. 

It was Duran that finally spotted her, “The fearless commander!”

Every head at the table twisted around to stare at Elissa. Shale granted stood there in complete silence. Elissa did notice the addition of Kallian at the table. 

“We do have other things to do.”

Zevran stood from his spot at the head of the table, walking to Elissa’s side. The elf threw his arm around Elissa’s shoulder, dragging her over to the table, “And it can wait. Join us, eat, look at Morrigan not frowning for once.”

True to his word, the witch had the smallest of smiles on her face. 

Elissa took Zevran’s seat with the elf pulling another from the empty tables, “You missed quite a night, Warden.”

The rest of the table went back to their conversations before Elissa appeared. With Duran and Zevran the closest ones to her. Elissa looked down to where Leliana was talking and smiling to Wynne. Glancing over to how Kallian was sending Morrigan a curious look every 11 seconds and how the witch pretended to ignore it. 

“I feel as if though I  _ missed _ something last night.” Elissa looked in between Duran and Zevran.

“Well you see..”

“It was all Duran’s..   


“Zevran’s master..”

“Wonderful…”

“Devilish.”

“Plan.” The dwarf and elf finished together. 

“Please, it’s still early.” Elissa planted her elbows down onto the edge of the table, rubbing her temples with her fingers. 

“Well you see, I have a friend, Isabela.”

“The pirate?”

“ _ Ship Captain _ .” Duran and Zevran said together. 

“The point, Zevran.”

“With Alistair leaving us, our poor bard was heartbroken and drowning her sorrows in a bottle.”

“I am aware, Zevran.”

“So Zevran got the great idea; why not have Leliana and Isabela meet?”

“Yes, great, grand even. And I know that Isabela has a fondness of redheads, it was a match made by the Maker.” 

The grins plastered on Duran and Zevran’s faces only made Elissa’s growing headache worse, “Should I be worried about you setting me up with Isabela now?”

“Of course not, my dear Warden. I know you only like blondes.”

“I am still waiting for the rest of this story, Zevran.”

“Not many can deny the Isabela’s charms…”

“She must be well valued on her ship.” Elissa’s eyes shut, the light coming from the windows suddenly blinding. 

“I find that offensive, Warden. Isabela is a model merchant sailor.” Zevran leaned over to pat Elissa’s shoulder. 

“The point my elven friend is trying to get at, is that Leliana helped ease the bitterness in her heart by…”

“Thoroughly fucking Isabela.” Zevran finished. 

“Because I am  _ 100 positive  _ that this is going to end well.” The headache was forming into a full blown migraine. 

“That’s not even the best part, Elissa. There was an Act 2, to Zevran’s plan.” Duran leaned his hand over to squeeze Elissa’s elbow. 

“Devilish indeed.” Elissa sarcastically whispered.

“Our dear friend, someone I hold close to my heart, Kallian.”

“What did you do to the poor girl, Zevran?”

“Nothing at all, my dear Warden.”

“Zevran’s plan  _ helped _ not only Kallian but also  _ Morrigan. _ ”

At that Elissa’s eyes snapped opened, looking from Zevran’s shit eating grin to Duran’s smirk,  _ “No.” _

“Yes.” The two said at once. 

“ _ No.” _

“ _ Yes.”  _

_ “NO!”  _

_ “Yes!” _

“By the Maker, Zevran…”

“Look at them. The kind hearted Kallian  _ melting _ Morrigan’s icy shell.”

“You need to stop reading late night poetry.”

“When he means melting, he meants eating. Eating…”

“Duran, I  _ understand  _ how it works.”

“I must say, my dear Warden, you’re looking extra chipper this morning too.”

“Maybe someone knew the difference between melting and  _ eating _ too.” 

“I shouldn’t got out of bed. I knew it, I should’ve stayed in bed and not had this entire fucking conversation.”

“You’re only saying that because you have a certain…”

“ALRIGHT!” Elissa’s hands slammed down on the table, her voice coming out a little too bit loud and high that she planned. 

The rest of the table became silent, the whole of the Pearl’s bar area turning to look at Elissa. 

“Sorry,” Elissa said, placing her hands back into her lap, “Please don’t tell me there was an Act three..”

“Well, Sten and Wynne..”

“That’s enough. Right, that’s enough. No more plans, Zevran, you’re cut off.”

“Don’t worry, Elissa, I have a few too.”

Elissa’s head dropped to the table with a loud groan. Earning a pair of laughter from Zevran and Duran.

* * *

 

“So the witch is…”

“Anora, for the love of the Maker, you’re enjoying this way too much. They were teasing me, playing a joke. They didn’t.” 

The Queen and Warden were walking along the walls of the Palace. They had taken lunch in the gardens once the group had came back up from the Pearl in the late morning. 

Anora couldn’t remember the last time she felt this carefree. Even Elissa was smiling her true bright smile. 

The corners of Anora’s lips twisted upwards, showing hints of rows of white teeth. Elissa felt her breath catching in her throat for a moment. For once since they had reconnected, Anora was smiling like that woman from before. The stress disappearing underneath the afternoon sun. 

“Maybe I am. I have never seen so you  _ annoyed _ .”

The way Anora licked her lips and tilted her head only caused Elissa to groan loudly, “Zevran and Duran know how to do it.”

Anora linked her arm with Elissa, bringing the Warden close to her as the pair walked. It wasn’t out of the question and not earn too many raised brows. They had commonly been seen like this before the Blight. 

“T..this feels nice.” Elissa whispered, enjoying having Anora close to her like this in public. 

“Being happy?”

“It’s a change.” Elissa deadpanned causing Anora to giggle. 

They descended down the side of the battlements and entered into one of the side courtyards of the Palace. A light marble water fountain and a few controlled plotted area for plant life was all that made up the small courtyard. 

Anora laced their hands together, pausing in the middle of the courtyard to kiss Elissa’s cheek. 

Elissa paused to look down at Anora, “What was that for?”

“Can I not kiss you because I want to?”

“No, new rule.”

“I swear the Grey Warden Joining must make every Warden sarcastic.” 

Elissa chuckled, fingers tapping the underside of Anora’s chin to angle her face up. A kiss was placed on the tip of Anora’s nose. 

“What was that for?” Anora playfully mimicked in her best Elissa’s voice. 

"I am glad to see your smartass trait hasn’t disappeared.”

Anora leaned her chin up, playfully nipping at Elissa’s nose. 

The Queen’s eyes wandered to one of the rose bushes in the courtyard. Familiar pink-peach roses growing in one of the controlled garden plots. 

Anora leaned from Elissa’s embrace and broke the steam of the rose. Coming back to Elissa’s arms, Anora’s fingers placed the rose through her lover’s tightly braided hair. 

Elissa raised a brow as the flower was placed in her hair, “How do I look? The scary Warden?”

“Like that Elissa Cousland from that Freedom Day Ball before Maric disappeared.”

“You mean the one where I got stumbling drunk.”

“You also wore a flower crown all night.”

“It was yours, you made me wear it.”

“The details aren’t important, Ellie.”

Elissa chuckled, her warm breath washing over Anora’s face, “I think you’ll look better wearing it.”

The Warden’s hands removed the flower from her hair and slipped it above Anora’s left ear. Her fingers dropped down to run along Anora’s left cheek, tracing the curve of the cheekbone before claiming Anora’s lips.

* * *

Their clothes had been thrown and tossed in their rushed to feel each other. Laying in a similar position from last night, with Anora laid out on top of Elissa, this time in the Queen large bed. 

Anora’s blonde hair was spilled across Elissa’s chest. Tanned fingers played with loose hair strands, twirling the blonde locks around her index finger. Anora’s fingers traced over Elissa’s trimmed and toned muscles, drawing random patterns. 

It was a calming and familiar position. There was something always so enjoyable about the attention Anora gave to her body. Early on a small part of Elissa was rather self conscious that as a woman she had obvious muscles from her training. Anora had driven that thought away quite fast. 

“I have to say,” Anora whispered out, her voice sounding tired, “This Grey Warden stamina has  _ many _ benefits.” 

“Are you saying I wasn’t good enough before?”

“Maker no, now I just can’t beat you.” 

Elissa hid her laugh in a mountain of blonde hair, “The single only benefit of becoming a Warden then?”

“So you can please your Queen, yes.”

Rays of the late afternoon sun peeked from the drapes in the bedroom, shining down on their connected naked bodies. Elissa nestled deeper into the bed, pulling Anora’s body with her, “How do you feel about skipping dinner?”

“We both know we can’t.”

“Why not? Most of the nobility left today to marshal their men. And trust me, I don’t think my people would even blink if we didn’t show. Not like people have enough time to gossip about us with an Archdemon on the loose.”

“I do enjoy how casually you talk about the Blight.”

Elissa sighed, her eyes shutting softly, “Let me pretend for awhile longer.”

Anora kissed a line up to Elissa’s lips. One along her collarbone, her neck, her chin and finally her lips, “I am only teasing, love.”

The Queen smiled at the way Elissa’s cheeks flushed the faintest of red, “Is there something wrong, love?”

“You know I love hearing you say that.”

“Calling you love? My love, my heart, my being, my other half, my soulm…” The rest of Anora’s whisper was cut off by Elissa’s lips.

* * *

 

Zevran glanced up from the scroll he was reading at the sound of someone’s heavy steps marching up to him. His body laid across one of the couches in the Palace’s small private library. 

Glancing over the edge of the scroll, Leliana stood in front of him with her hands on her hips, blue eyes narrowed at him. 

“Zev!”

“Leli”

“Don’t Leli me!”

Zevran rolled his eyes, rolling the scroll up and placed it down on the couch next to him. He rolled his chin into the palm of his head, “What is it, my bard?”

“You sent t..that.. Isabela to woo me at the Pearl!”

“Yes, I did.”

“I was  _ drunk _ and you sent some whor…”

“ _ Ship Captain _ , Leli.”

“Whatever! I was stumbling drunk and you thought it was a good idea to...to.. What!”

“Leli, calm down and let me explain.” Zevran stood from the couch, standing in front of the the bard. His hands gripped Leliana’s shoulder, smiling at the woman. 

When Leliana only sighed and nodded, Zevran took it the sign to explain. 

“You had been spending every single day drinking since Alistair left. Crying and drinking, barely eating anything at all. You needed something to snap you out of it all. It’s not that I told Isabella to hold you down and take you. As I understand you do most of the ‘holding down’.”

A blush appeared on Leliana’s cheeks, a fair bit of the fight disappearing from the bard. 

“I know Alistair leaving has hurt you deeply, Leli. But watching you drink yourself into a grave was hurting me deeply. Have you even touched wine today?”

“I..no.”

“And what are you’re going to do now.’

“Get my idiot love back.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because we’re his family, Zev! Not Eamon who ruined Alistair’s childhood and most of his entire fucking life. His place is here! With us, with  _ me _ . I know he’s hurt bu..but I  _ need _ him. And he needs me.”

“See! I snapped you out of it.”

Leliana narrowed her eyes again at Zevran though slowly it faded, being replaced with a smile. 

“I..it was a fine night.”

“I'm sure it was, my dear bard.” Zervan wagged his eyebrows. 

“Not.a.word.to.Alistair. If he  _ ever found out _ …’

“You would mention the time he left you to go cry with his abusive faux Uncle.”

Leliana rose up to her full height, nodding her head slowly, “You’re right! Thank you, Zevran.”

Zevran patted Lelian’s shoulder, watching her go back to the entrance to the library. She had nearly reached the door when the woman suddenly turned around.

“Wait, wait just a moment.”

“Yes?”

“What the hell did you and Duran do all night then when everyone was paring off with each other?”

Zevran only winked. 

 


	14. Chapter 14

_ “Now, Alistair, there is much more to being a Grey Warden than just killing darkspawn…” _

_ “That seems like the biggest bit of the job detail, Duncan.” _

_ The Warden Commander sighed, “Alistair..” _

_ “Yes, right, great and grand sacrifice.”  _

_ If it was any other Warden Commander or even Senior Warden, Alistair would’ve been disciplined. Instead Duncan smiled at the young man sitting across the fire from him, “Some days I wished I had your humor.” _

_ “And the other days?” _

_ “That you would stop talking.” _

_ Alistair cracked a larger smile and laughed loudly. Causing a few of the passing soldiers to glance at the Grey Warden tents, mumbling to themselves.  _

_ Coming from the rows of tents and camping soldiers, Alistair and Duncan could make out the gilded armor of the King. The man’s youthful laughter filling the warcamp’s early morning air.  _

_ The smile fell from Alistair’s face, his attention centering on the King in the distance.  _

_ “That was his fate in life, Alistair. You shouldn’t linger on it.” Duncan noticed Alistair wandering stare.  _

_ Alistair took a deep breath, he hadn’t mean to stare for that long, “I know, Duncan. I had never thought of…” _

_ “Do not lie, Alistair. You have, you still do perhaps.” Duncan’s voice was soft, smiling at Alistair.  _

_ Eamon never entertain Alistair thinking, let alone speaking, if he had been legitimized by Maric. Or even born as Cailan’s full bloodied brother. Another difference between Duncan and the good Arl.  _

_ “Now and again.” Alistair said truthfully.  _

_ “If Maric could, he would’ve, Alistair. You know this.” _

_ “Eamon explained it that he never wanted me to begin with. But he didn’t have the heart to give my mother a potion.” _

_ “Arl Eamon was cruel to you as a child, Alistair. In some ways, It was for your own protection. If someone had learned the truth of your heritage, it would’ve been doom for you and Ferelden.”  _

_ Alistair sighed and rubbed his eyes to chase away the tiredness that lingered underneath the layer, “For my own protection…” _

_ “It is the sad truth, Alistair. If anyone knew of your birth, you would’ve been used for political games. Someone could use your parentage to press a claim to Cailan’s throne if he wasn’t able to produce a heir.” _

_ “I hear he has no issue doing that.” _

_ “You shouldn’t listen to camp gossip, Alistair.” _

_ “It’s more than just camp gossip, Duncan.”  _

_ “There’s rumors, nothing more.” _

_ “Well I did hear about this really real sounding one. Having to do with this House in Gwaren. The MacG…” _

_ Whatever else Alistair was going to say was cut off by the sharp glare Duncan shot his way and the sound of the King’s voice ringing out near them, “Ah, Duncan. Let me join you.” _

_ Alistair’s back went stiff. He was about to disappear elsewhere into the camp but was stopped short by Cailan patting his shoulder and sitting down next to him on the log, “Alistair! Good to see you.” _

_ For whatever reason, Alistair found himself rooted in his seat.  _

_ Cailan looked over his shoulder to the collection of knights and advisers that made up his followers, “Please, gentlemen, I am safe along the Wardens. Give us some space.” _

_ The knights and advisers moved back and away from the Grey Warden campsite, giving the three men space to talk in private without the chance of being overheard.  _

_ “Like a bunch of pups to a mother.” Cailan mumbled, turning back to Duncan.  _

_ “They live to serve, Your Majesty.” _

_ “Do you know how many times people say that to me daily, Duncan? For once if someone could speak their mind. At least Loghain doesn’t hide how he feels.” _

_ “Is the Teyrn growing on you then?” Duncan smirked.  _

_ “I don’t have much of a choice, don’t I?” Cailan returned the smirk, looking to the side to catch Alistair’s eyes.  _

_ “I.., Your Majesty.” Alistair bowed his head.  _

_ “Alistair, please, there’s no need for that between us.”  _

_ Alistair didn’t see the look of curiosity that appeared on Duncan’s face before it disappeared, the Commander of the Grey choosing to stay quiet in that moment.  _

_ Alistair figured that Cailan knew they were half-brothers. A part of him always wondered if Cailan thought of him, if life had been different how they would’ve been raised with each other. Not that there would be much room to deny when they sat side by side looking quite alike.  _

_ “You are the King, Your Majesty. I’m just a Warden.” _

_ “I am glad you pay attention, the title is unneeded.” Cailan joked, moving his hand to pat Alistair’s shoulder.  _

_ Another Warden came jogging up behind to where Duncan sat. Leaning down, the man whispered something into Duncan’s ear, earning a sigh from the Commander, “Pardon me, Your Majesty, there is something I need to see too swiftly.” _

_ “Go ahead, Duncan. I’ll find you later.” Cailan waved off the Grey Warden Commander, allowing him to follow the runner.  _

_ Now all that was left were the two Therinis. Alistair fell into silence, unsure how to speak to his half-brother in the open like this. This being the longest amount of time they two spent in each other’s company.  _

_ “Duncan tells me you wish to fight with us in the vanguard.” Cailan broke the silence once Duncan had disappeared from view.  _

_ “Yes, You.., yes. I do.” _

_ “While I would enjoy to fight alongside you on the field, I think your place is in the reserves.” _

_ “Just like how Duncan wants.” _

_ “Listen to me, Alistair,” Cailan’s voice grew serious, turning his body so the two could look upon each other fully, “I would do anything to fight alongside my brother though I..I believe the Maker has different plans for you.” _

_ “Cailan, I…” _

_ “In another life, Alistair, I would’ve gladly called you brother.” Cailan grasped Alistair’s forearm, keeping his eyes leveled with Alistair’s before dropping the grip and standing.  _

_ It was the last time Alistair ever saw Cailan alive. _

* * *

 

_ The scene shifted to the battlefield below the ruins of Ostagar. The King’s banner in the center had fallen into the mud and blood. The white and gold banner being stepped on by retreating soldiers and advancing Darkspawn.  _

_ The King laid bleeding out, the lower half of his body broken beyond repair. Bits of his golden set of armor scattered the floor around him, the hilt of his sword barely out of reach. _

_ Darkspawn rush past him, not giving the dying King a second look. Smaller creatures and shrieks feasted on the bodies of the dead and dying. Over the sounds of battle Cailan could hear the sound of dying soldiers being eaten alive. _

_ Alistair walked like a ghost through the battlefield. The darkspawn ghosting through him as if he wasn't there. _

_ Cailan’s eyes went wide at Alistair, struggling to find his voice, “B..Brother.” _

_ Alistair dropped to the King’s side. He placed the hilt of the King’s longsword into the dying man’s hand. _

_ “T...tell me it w..wont fall.” _

_ Alistair wasn't able to speak, emotion boiling in his throat. _

_ “P..promise me.” _

_ Cailan was holding onto the last moments of his life. Grunting and fight for every second more of life. _

_ “I promise.” _

* * *

 

Alistair jumped awake in the pitch black bedroom. His tunic drenched wet with night sweats.The drapes covering the windows were shut tightly, without any candles, Alistair barely make out what was in the room. 

Throwing his legs over the edge of the bed, Alistair ran his hands through his dirty blonde hair. Memories and nightmares mixed together. But it was always the same, finding Cailan dying at Ostagar begging for him.

Uncontrollable shakes and shivers rocked through Alistair’s body. The Warden balled his hands into fists to control his body, eyes searching for an emptied chamber pot. 

Emptying his stomach into the silver pot, Alistair rested his sweaty forehead on the cool metal of the chamber pot. He had stopped drinking after the first day, knowing first hand it wouldn’t go anywhere. 

This wasn’t a hangover that refused to leave, it was something else. 

Leaning back down onto the bed, Alistair kicked the thin white sheet down to the foot of the bed. His body felt hot with only the cotton underwear covering his body. 

He needed to get out of this room, out of this estate and even out of this city. Somewhere quiet to  _ think _ and clear his head. 

He didn’t know  _ what  _ to do. A large and loud part was so  _ angry _ at Elissa. For what she had the gall to do, to cross swords with him. Alistair didn’t care about Riordan, it was Elissa’s hand behind it, it had to be her hand behind it. 

The smaller part, the quiet one that always whispered in his ear, told him to go back. That part knew that the choice Elissa had been forced to make wasn’t taken lightly. There was truth that Loghain could still do good with what was left of his life. 

Above all else, that was where Leliana was. 

The mere glimpse of the bard’s name entering Alistar’s mind made all the pain all new again. He had left her, she had waited, begged from him to come back. That’s where he belonged, with  _ her _ . Next to her. Next to the rest of the Company, ending this Blight. 

Doing what they set out to do all those months ago from Ostagar. 

“Warden, the Arl requires your presence in the study.” Ser Perth’s hammering on the bedroom door broke Alistair from deciding to make a run for it. 

Dressing in whatever clothes he could find, Alistair entered out in the hallway where the knight waited. The look Ser Perth gave him told Alistair all he needed to know about how he looked. 

Eamon was the centerpiece in the room. Sitting behind his tall oak desk with his back pressed into his plush leather chair. A silver tray bearing the remains of his breakfast rested on top of the desk. 

The Arl projected an aura of calmness. One of the few to still carry himself with a careful grace in these darkening days. 

Teagan joined them shortly after Alistair entered the room, patting Alistair’s on his shoulder and whispering into his ear, “If you need anything, tell me.”

“Ah, we have gathered.” Eamon wiped his mouth with a white towel and placed it down ontop of the silver tray. The Arl’s attention now turned to the three standing in front of him. 

“What is it, Brother?” Alistair had to give Teagan a second look, the Bann sounded annoyed. 

“It is time for us to leave the capitol. I have already given orders for the estate to be closed up once more. What is the update on our forces, Ser Perth?”

“Rallying at Redcliffe, Your Grace.” 

Both Teagan and Alistair didn’t miss the way Ser Perth addressed Eamon. 

“Good, very good. Send a raven, once they are at full strength begin their march northwards.”

“The Queen ordered the rallying point to Leften. That’s going the  _ very _ long way around.” Teagan spoke over Eamon. 

Alistair felt the air in the room shifting. Eamon narrowing his eyes onto where his brother stood with back straight and shoulders out. 

“I have little intention of bending the knee to some  _ Mac Tir _ , when the true blood of the Theirin line lives.” 

“Oh bugger off, Eamon. This isn’t about Maric! This isn’t about Alistair, this is about  _ you! _ ” Teagan was yelling now, marching forward closer to his brother’s desk. 

Alistair took a step back, hoping to the Maker they forgot he was here. He glanced over to Ser Perth, noticing how the knight’s hand had dropped to the dagger on his sword belt. 

“Teagan,...”

“There are bigger things at play here, Teagan. What I do, I do for the  _ Kingdom _ .” 

Teagan silenced himself, going to glare swiftly at his brother, stepping away from Eamon’s desk. Alistair found it curious how quick Teagan was to back down after so directly challenging his brother. The Warden  _ swore _ he caught the moment look of panic crossing the Bann’s face.

“With that said, Fergus Cousland lives with an army of some 8,000 in Highever. If news is to be believed, he aims to march to Amaranthine to crush the rest of the Howe loyalists. It proves an opportunity for us.” 

That caught Teagan’s attention, eyes snapping back to Eamon.

“The Bannorn and the Bann’s Alliance that are loyal to Anora do not have the manpower to directly challenge the might of that of the Hinterlands. With Gwaren divided and barely holding together, the Cousland host would be a large boon to Anora.”

“ _ Eamon.. _ ” Teagan gasped. 

“We will link up with our forces and make for Amaranthine. I will offer Fergus the choice to join us in ending Anora’s rule and together we shall end this Blight under the rule of King Alistair.”

“Eamon, have you gone  _ mad _ ? After everything Elissa did for us? Do you truthfully think Fergus will stab his sister in the back?”

“She spared the man who was the hand controlling Howe. She’s been tainted and twisted by her lover. If she stands down, she’ll be allowed to live.”

“Eamon! For the love of the Maker, those are rumors. I understand we're all angry at Loghain being allowed to live but this Blight is bigger than  _ any of us _ .”

“And if the Cousland’s refuse to turn coat?” Ser Perth asked.

“Then we will do what we must and meet them on the field. I am confident in the ability of our troops. Most of the Cousland troops have been fighting for the past year. They’re tired and want this all to end. One crushing victory, or Fergus’s death, and we can secure the rest of the army.”

“By the Maker..” Tegan mumbled out. 

“I do not make this choice lightly, Teagan. I do it for the good of the Kingdom.”

The frown dropped from Teagan’s face, nodding his head at his brother as if understanding, “Aye. What I do, I do for the Kingdom.”

“Good. Ser Perth, Teagan, see to the rest of the estate. I need to speak to Alistair in private.” Eamon offered the two other men a smile, his eyes turning to where Alistair stood in silence. 

With the door sealing shut behind Teagan, the air in the room turned heavy. Alistair refusing to look in Eamon’s direction while Eamon stared down at the side of Alistair’s face. 

“It’s time for you to cast aside the Warden and become the King you were…”

Alistair’s head snapped in Eamon’s direction, a sudden flare of anger gripping his heart and mind, “Born to be? Do you remember what you told me when I was young or did you black out those memories because they didn’t serve their purpose anymore.”

“Alistair..”

“You’re planning  _ treason _ , Eamon.”

“Have you already forgotten what Elissa did? She spared the man who caused this all. The one who left your Grey Warden,  _ Duncan _ , to die a painful death. He is the reason this Kingdom is failing.”

Eamon silenced Alistair, the Warden failing to find the words to fight Eamon. The Arl was right, Loghain was the reason Cailan, Duncan and so many others had died. Thousands, those who died in the Blight due to his failure to fight the darkspawn. 

The Arl stood from the chair, as if being able to see the struggle in Alistair’s mind, “I know you hold them dear, Alistair. But a King’s duty is to the greater good, to the whole of his Kingdom. I have every faith that if we are to disconnect Elissa from Anora, she’ll rejoin us.”

Eamon came close to Alistair, the Warden only catching parts of what Eamon was saying. His mind was jumping from thought to thought, back and forth, right to left. 

Alistair snapped from his thoughts when he felt Eamon placing his hands onto his shoulders. Squeezing Alistair and smiling at him, voice so soft and gentle, “Nothing about this is going to be easy, Alistair, but I need you to believe. Believe in the man that hides underneath the layers. Underneath the boy I knew, underneath the Templar you nearly became and underneath the Warden you are. I believe in you.”

Alistair nodded, his mind leaving in the middle of Eamon’s speech, “It’s..too much to take in all at once. I need  _ time _ to think.”

“It’s alright, Alistair, it’s alright. I am here and I think you need more rest. You look ill. Go, I’ll make sure the servants keep you well until we are set to travel.”

Elissa groaned into the feather pillow. The sun hitting through the open part of the drapes and forcing the Warden from her blissful sleep. 

The redhead had the covers wrapped around her hips, having been thrown around the night before. Rubbing her eyes into the pillow, the sudden lack of a warm body pressed next to her was obvious. 

Elisas rolled out of bed, finding where she had thrown her boots and sword belt the night before. The Warden cracked and rolled her neck, holding back a yawn as she walked from the bedroom to the sitting room in the Queen’s chambers. 

She finally found Anora positioned in her study. Reports, letters and maps rolled out across the massive oak desk. A silver tray of tea and crackers stood in the upper hand corner, Anora sipped from a cup as she read. 

Elissa smiled softly at the sight. Crossing through the door silently, seeing the way Anora’s right eye glanced up before going back to her reading. Placing her sword belt on the back of one of the spare chairs in the room, Elissa came to Anora’s side, “The bed was rather empty without you.”

“I do wonder what the Court would say if they knew that their precious Warden couldn’t sleep without me.” Anora smirked, placing the letter back down onto the desk. 

Elissa’s index finger popped Anora’s chin up to press a kiss to her lips. Anora smiled into the kiss, her right hand tracing over the side of Elissa’s face. After the calm day yesterday, the kiss was lazy, enjoying the feel of each other lips moving against each other’s.  When they pulled away, Anora placed a kiss to the tip of Elissa’s chin. 

“Wonder why we’re sleeping together in the first place.”

“A fair point.” 

Elissa grabbed the back of a spare chair and pulled it to the side of the desk, allowing the two to be closer than sitting across from each other over the Queen’s desk. 

“Ravens arrived from the Elven Clans and the Dwarves this morning.”

“How many?”

“Keeper Lanaya, who has been chosen to speak for the collection of Ferelden clans, have pledged 1,000 warriors. A smaller number than what I had hoped for.”

“You have not seen a Dalish archer in action then, Anora. 1,000 is more than I planned for. What of the dwarves?”

“Near 5,000. There was also mention of the Legion of the Dead pledging their support due to a letter sent by ‘Lord Duran’. I assume you were aware of this?”

“Not at all. But it is good.”

“I agree. My Father spoke highly of the Legion of the Dead. it was due to them that he won at River Dane.”

Elissa pulled a worn map of Ferelden out from underneath clusters of reports and letters that covered Anora’s desk. The Warden’s attention was pulled to Ostagar deep in the south, tracing her finger up along the southern road, “Where does that put us at?”

“You’re the General of my Armies, shouldn’t I be asking you that?” Anora leaned into her chair, using one hand to rest her chin whilst the other brought her cup of tea to her lips. 

“Anora.”

“Without the Hinterlands, we’re lacking. Gwaren and the Bannorn together number close to 20,000. With Fergus in the north, we might push closer to 30,000.”

“36,000 we can field,” Elissa mumbled, eyes focusing on Highever in the north, “With the Hinterlands, closer to 45,000 maybe?” 

“And how many darkspawn?”

“Maker knows. They have had months sitting in Ostagar to build and gather.”

“Do you think that’s why they haven’t tried to strike out sooner? It begs the question where they will strike too. Redcliffe is close, Gwaren even closer.”

“We can not risk prodding the horde yet, not with our armies still gathering. I will have to ask Riordan on darkspawn tactics. When I was in the Deep Roads, I saw first hand machines of war, they seem capable to siege a walled city if it came to it. Begging the question if we allow them to come to us or we strike them out in the open field.”

“A pitch battle is too dangerous. It could go either way. And with their numbers, they would swarm us swiftly. And marching to Ostagar would marching into their stronghold.” 

“The army that attacked at Ostagar wasn’t that large, Cailan was correct in thinking it was a large warring party. But since then? They have had nearly a year to gather strength. When I was in the Deep Roads, it was never ending, they’re tens of thousands hiding.”

“ _ Tens of thousands _ .” Anora whispered. 

The two women fell quiet, catching each other’s eyes from the short distance. Anora’s face was a make of indifference with worry lingering underneath the surface. 

Elissa leaned over to interlace their hands together, “It’s almost over, Anora.”

“It certainly doesn't make it any easier. I wonder if this is how my Father and Maric felt during the rebellion. Knowing they’re sending so many  _ people _ to their deaths just at the slim chance of victory.”

“It’s far too early in the morning to be thinking about this.” Elissa forced a smile but failed at how stiff Anora had become. 

“Everything about this is troubling me. There’s too much at risk, more than my Crown, more than ideals. This an event that will go down in history as a defining moment of this age and it’s upon me and you.”

“Me and you?”

“Who else? Ferelden has been abandoned to die. By the Grey Warden Order, by every nation that borders us, by the Chantry. Dwarves, elves, humans, mages, templars; it doesn’t matter now. We’re all Fereldens and we shall fight alongside each other as Fereldens.”

“You mean to follow through with what you promised to the elves?”

“City or Dalish. Those who fight with us or those who flee for safety. They deserve an equal place here. I doubt the Dalish will agree to become true citizens underneath the Crown but land can be given to them, permanent land.”

“And if the Landsmeet refuses?”

“To the hell with the Landsmeet. I’ll disband it if I must. I will use my royal prerogative as i see fit to  _ rule _ above the sound and noise of the nobility. ”

Elissa snorted, causing Anora to arch a brow at her redheaded lover, “I can see it now. The look on Eamon’s face. Marching into the Landsmeet and disbanding it.”

A faint red blush danced onto Anora’s cheeks, the Queen dropping her eyes back to the reports, “Do not make mockery of me, Elissa.”

“I am not mocking you.” Elissa sighed, squeezing Anora’s hand tightly once more. 

“I am Queen, I must do what is necessary for the survival of Ferelden.” 

“Anora,  _ please _ .” Elissa slipped out of the leather backed chair to get closer to Anora. The Queen’s body remained stiff staring forward to the the door. 

Elissa’s other hand rubbed up behind Anora’s neck, her skilled fingers finding the knots that plagued Anora’s shoulders and neck. The Queen didn’t respond to the touching to begin with, starting forward still. 

Elissa wouldn’t feel right if she left it here. Leaving Anora to stew and simmer in her anger, then the Queen would go out of her way to ignore Elissa. It was the way Anora dealt with their fights in their lives before. 

The Warden’s fingers prodded the knots in Anora’s shoulders. Rubbing into her skin in tight circles with her thumbs. It didn’t take long for Anora to break. The Queen’s body going lax, a small sigh echoing through the study. 

“I didn’t mean…”

Elissa answered Anora with pressing a kiss to Anora’s ear, thumbs undoing the tight knots in the Queen’s pale shoulders. Her fingers moved from Anora’s shoulders and ran through the blonde silky blonde hair. 

Anora leaned back into the back of the chair, allowing Elissa’s fingers to begin braiding her hair, “We haven’t done this in years.”

Elissa kissed the top of Anora’s ear, leaning back away to tighten the braid across the side of Anora’s skull. It wasn’t quite the bun hairstyle Anora was known for but the Queen didn’t mind. 

The feel of Elissa’s fingers in her hair were too calming for her to care. She allowed Elissa to take her time, folding and braiding the strands of hair.

Finishing, Elissa placed another kiss to the shell of Anora’s ear, “I am hungry.”

“We can go and join…”

“Not for that.” Elissa sang into Anora’s ear, pressing a kiss to Anora’s earlobe and then downwards along the side of her neck. 

The Queen rolled her head to the side, allowing Elissa’s full entrance downwards, “Oh.”

* * *

 

The sound of rain hitting the closed window was peaceful to Anora compared to the chaos that would surely yet to come. Was it the quiet before the storm if a storm already raged in preparation for the larger one? 

Elissa stood in silence in the study. Anora sat behind her desk with her chin clasped in her hands. Her hair still braided in the style Elissa had done earlier that morning. Sitting in front of the Queen’s desk was the very well aged Lord Christian of the Treasury. 

“Your Majesty, the Crown simply doesn’t have the funding to raise that much manpower. Soldiers require pay, food, bedding. The nobility require their fair share to pay their own levies.” The wrinkly aged Lord Christian spoke on to the wandering Queen. 

“But if we were to used the gold your Father had…”

Anora tore her eyes from the storm raging outside her window, landing onto the Lord of the Treasury, “You mean the  _ blood money _ that was raised from selling my subjects into slavery.”

Lord Christian bowed his head but spoke on, “Your Majesty, the Crown is bankrupted. The late King Cailan had drained the coffers and the failure of his campaign at Ostagar dealt the final blow. We do not have the funds to pay for the army you have already called.”

“This is a Blight! Not some campaign into Orlais. This is a fight for our very survival.” 

“While that is understood among some, Your Majesty, not all grasp that concept. Soldiers have to be paid, the nobility compensated. The amount it will cost to rebuild afterwards, the failure of this harvest.”

“We are fighting  _ darkspawn _ . Do soldiers need to be paid to fight for their  _ lives _ ? If that’s true, I am severely underpaid.” Elissa broke her silence. 

“King Maric paid his soldiers during the rebellion. While the threat of the Blight grave indeed, I speak more of what is to come afterwards. Once the enemy is defeated, there would be no reason for the banners to remain raised. Unless to keep order during rebuilding.”

“How much.” Anora spoke quietly, silencing Elissa from speaking further.

The Treasurer looked back to the Queen, adjusting the papers in his lap to read from them, “1000 pounds of gold, 5,000 pounds of silver.” 

“By the fucking Maker…” Elissa cursed.

“That’s…” Anora sighed, rubbing her temples with her fingers, “How many did they  _ sell _ ?”

“According to the papers kept, over 50% of the Elven population of the City were sold or are unaccounted for. The amount would be enough to stabilize the Kingdom once the Blight has been ended. Wheat and foodstuffs can be bought and shipped from the Free Marshes at a fair price. The army could be paid as long as we need it to keep peace during rebuilding.”

“That money is tainted, Anora. It should go back to the Elves.”

“Your Majesty, we must all think in the long term. While the Elves have suffered terribly at the hands of the former Lord Regent, the good of the whole Kingdom comes first.” 

“And risk an open rebellion by the Elves across the entire of Ferelden!”

“That is why we are paying for an army, Warden Cousland.”

The storm raged on outside. A bolt of thunder ringing out in the distance as another intense wave of rain slammed against the windows of the study. The soft crackling of the fire seemed too cozy for the raised voices. 

Anora knew he was right. With that amount of money it could be enough to stabilize the Kingdom long enough to allow reconstruction policies to take place. 

Elissa drew closer to the desk, planting her hands down onto the worn oak, “You know it isn’t the right thing to do, Anora!”

“What would you have me do, Elissa,” Anora titled her head up to hold Elissa’s green eyes, “Watch as the rest of the Kingdom starves to death? Refusing to use this money to buy the food needed to survive?”

“ _ You know it isn’t right.”  _ Elissa was pleading now. 

“Your Kingdom must come first, Your Majesty. Order must be kept.”

Anora shut her eyes tightly, not wanting to look in Elissa’s bright green eyes or the hooded stare of the treasurer. That headache that had been plaguing her for weeks came roaring back. She could hear the quiet breathing of the treasurer, the intense beating of Elissa’s heart from a few feet away.

“Highever has not been hit hard by the war or the Blight, Anora. We can ask my Brother to send supplies.”

“Even then, Your Majesty, Teyrn Fergus would ask for compensation, as is his right.” 

The Crown needed the funds. The Kingdom needed the funds. The supply of grain stored was enough for barely 5 years. It would take years for the Bannorn to truly repair itself. Too many fields had been burnt to a crisp. If the Archdemon was defeated, the hordes of darkspawn would have to be driven from the surface meaning prolonged military expansions which would drive up costs. 

She knew the choice she had to made, for the greater good of the Kingdom. 

“Lord Christian, the Crown will accept the funds. Write to the Amaranthine Trading Company to begin setting up the necessary trading contracts with Kirkwall and Ostwick. I would loath to make terms with the Empire.” 

“At once, Your Majesty.” The man stood from his seat, bowing deeply to the Queen and then turned to leave.

“Yo...you..” Elissa trailed off, mumbling to herself and looking from the door to Anora. 

“I do what is necessary for the Kingdom, Elissa. It won’t matter if the Elves are angry if every major City in Ferelden are lining their streets with the dead because there’s no food. When there’s riots over the last scraps of bread.”

“It’s not right, Anora.” 

“I don’t have a choice!” Anora stood, screaming at Elissa. The Warden took a step back from the desk, surprised for a moment. The Queen’s face was flushed red, hands gripping the edge until her knuckles turned white from strain. 

“None of this is  _ right _ . Nothing in the whole of Ferelden is right. My Father still walking isn’t right, the amount of dead isn’t right, those sold into slavery isn’t right. But it’s happened, it’s come to past. I will bear this burden, alone if I must.”

Anora watched as Elissa turned on her heel and walked out of the study in complete silence.

* * *

 

Duran watched silently from a raised patio overlooking the Palace’s sparring grounds. The rainstorm hadn’t let up but it hadn’t stopped Elissa and Zevran from sparring each other. Their armor and bodies becoming drenched from the rain, nothing more than blurry pictures striking at each other. 

The dwarf lite his pipe and sat down on a wooden bench, eyes studying the two figures. Pulling his cloak closer against him to keep the cold wind from nipping at him. He still hadn’t gotten used to the different and freak weather patterns of top side life. 

Duran hadn’t been sitting long before Anora appeared on the other end of the long patio. Dressed in a long sleeved dark blue dress with pants and boots underneath, the only color came from the gold crown on her head and her blonde hair. 

Taking a seat next to the dwarf, she crossed on long leg over another, clasping her cloak closer against her body. 

Duran offered her a smile and nod but the Queen didn’t return it, her attention focused on the sparring below. 

“Was she your only lover?” Duran asked, turning his attention back to his two friends. 

Anora leaned into the stone wall behind them, “How badly do I give it away?”

“I see how you look at her. How she looks at you. It’s hidden but if you look at the right moment, anyone can see it.”

A bitter sounding low chuckle escaped from Anora, “I suppose I should be glad that no one’s been looking at the right moment then.”

“Most people miss what’s right in front of them.”

Anora rested her gloved hands in her laps. Absent minded playing and lacing her fingers together, “You were a Prince. Was there someone for you?”

Duran sighed, moving the pipe to the corner of his lips, “Aye. A long time ago. In a different life.” 

“Who were they?”

“Someone who I loved. Someone who followed me to the darkest parts of the Deep Roads and back again. I don’t think I ever realized until long after, my true feelings for what we had. I never thought about it, even if I was to become King, it wouldn’t end there.”

“Is that your advice to me then? That it won’t end?”

“Is that why you’re here? Because you think I have the answer to that?”

“No, no, I don’t believe that you do.”

“If you want what I think; I do believe that day will come. When it does, you’ll have to make a choice.”

Anora didn’t answer. Her hands tightly in her lap, a look of pain and dread coming to her youthful face. Eyes unable to tear themselves from Elissa below, “I pray to the Maker that day won’t ever come.”

“Thus is the life of the Crown, isn’t it? A tragedy told in three acts. Wandering glances, longing kisses and slamming doors.” 

Anora released a shaky breath, the urge to cry falling over her. She forced herself to blink away the tears. She stood, suddenly finding herself not able to sit that close to the dwarf. 

Coming closer to the railing of the long patio, the whispers of rain hit her face, allowing her to hide her tears along the rain. The ringing of steel had stopped, Zevran and Elissa noticing the Queen watching them. 

Anora’s eyes were screwed shut, her hands gripping the railing in front of her. Missing the sound of Elissa taking the steps up to her two at a time. It wasn’t until Elissa had placed her hand onto her shoulder that Anora broke fully. 

Her entire body heaving and rocking with the force of her sobs. Pressing her face into the cold wet metal that covered Elissa’s body. It was what she had always feared; having to pick between her love for her people or her love for Elissa.

Elissa was angry at Anora, there was no way to hide it. But seeing Anora breaking like this in front of her, Elissa knew what was on Anora’s mind. The same thing that plagued the back depth of her own head. 

It wasn’t the first time the very real threat of their lives taking them different ways threatened to break them. 

The Warden’s breath rang metallically through the metal of her visor, “Anora.”

Anora, remembering where they were and who she was, took a long step back from Elissa. Drying her eyes with the back of her hand, she only sent Elissa one long glance before turning back inside of the Palace.

“What did you say, Duran?” Elissa rounded her attention to where the dwarf stood with Zevran.

“Nothing she didn’t already know.”

Elissa lifted her visor up and sighed, taking the long steps that would lead her back to Anora’s rooms.

* * *

 

Only taking the time to throw off the heavy armor but staying in her wet leather long coat, Elissa made her way to where she knew Anora was hiding. If it wasn’t her rooms, there was only one other place the Queen could hide away in. 

The library of the Palace was small and quaint. Full of books and scrolls collected namely by Maric and a few surviving from the Theirin line of Kings, it was only used for hosting guests for tea. 

Elissa found her sitting in one of the leather club chairs. Cloak thrown over the back of the chair, gloves left drying near the warm fireplace. A worn book was in her lap, it was always the same book. 

Locking the door behind her, the Warden didn’t go straight to Anora. Running her fingers over familiar spines and dusty scrolls. The pair had spent many of their afternoons hidden away here. Away from the outside world, away from both their duties. It was their escape. 

“I understand.” Elissa finally said to break the silence. Eyes studying over a well detailed map of Ferelden. Labeled with each Bann, Arling and Teyrnirs along the Houses that ruled them.

“Queen Anora the Merciless. Queen Anora the Shrewd. I wonder what history will remember me as.”

“Queen Anora the Great.”

Anora scoffed, “Do you even believe that? How much had my Father done in the name of ‘the greater good’. In the name of Ferelden. Am I so much different than him now?”

Elissa found herself drawn to Anora now. Going to kneel in front of Anora, Elissa moved the book out of Anora’s lap and gently clasped her hands, “You are nothing like him.”

“Everything I am is because of him, Elissa. As soon as Lord Christian pressed the issue I knew what my answer was going to be because it would be the thing my Father would’ve done.”

“You aren’t him, Anora. You never were like him. We know who you are, underneath everything else.”

Anora’s hands leaned to grasp the sides of Elissa’s face, brushing her fingers over the curves of the redhead’s cheekbones, “I am his daughter. I will forever be his daughter.”

Elissa leaned her forehead against Anora’s, shutting her eyes and focusing on the feel of Anora mere inches away from her. 

“I am afraid,” Anora finally whispered out, “ _ So afraid.”  _

Elissa nuzzled her nose across the side of Anora’s face, moving her hands to run along Anora’s thighs and resting them there, “As am I.”

“I worry so much that I am going to become like him. I spent my entire life looking up to him, wanting to be just like him. Who I am is because of  _ him _ . And to have seen what he became in the name for his love of Ferelden…” Anora’s whisper broke off with a quiet shaky breath. 

“For so long I pictured myself out there with him. During the rebellion, fighting alongside him. W..what if I become that? What if I start down that path? Telling myself I am doing what’s necessary for the Kingdom when in reality I am doing what is necessary for me.” 

Elissa’s hand slipped to the back of Anora’s neck. Fingers playing with the loose strands of hair that had come loose from the blonde braided bun. She placed a kiss to the side of Anora’s nose and then another underneath Anora’s right eye, “The reason you won’t ever become like him is because already you fear becoming it. I don’t know anything about ruling Anora but I know you love Ferelden. You have to think about all the ways you and him are different still.”

Elissa pressed another kiss to Anora’s cheek, “I..I don’t agree with it. It doesn’t sit right with me but that’s why I am the Warden and you’re the Queen,” Elissa paused, placing on her hand onto Anora’s chest, right where she could feel the beating of her heat, “As long as I know that stays pure and good, I’ll stand by you no matter what.”

* * *

 

The warm bath had done wonders to fight the chill that had settled in her bones. Laid out on the couch in Anora’s bedchambers, she had the perfect view out the window to stare out over the rainy city. 

The soft crackling of fire added with the sound of the rain hitting the roof was luring Elissa into a blissful sleep. The stress of the day easing away with each quiet second away from the sound of fury of the city. 

The leather coach dipped when another body joined Elissa. Laying down in between Elissa’s spread legs, Anora tucked her head just underneath Elissa’s chin, nuzzling her nose across the hollow of Elissa’s neck. 

Anora had brought a throw blanket from the bed with her, tossing it over her and Elissa, covering up until Anora’s neck. The blonde melted into Elissa’s warm embrace, the warmth from the fire and the sound of the rain hitting the roof was peaceful. 

“I miss you wearing dresses.” Anora mumbled out from her half awake state. 

Elissa was resting her eyes, arm curled around Anora’s waist, the Warden chuckled lightly, “I was always tomboyish. I wore some off shoot Orlesian military attire during that one ball a few years ago.”

“And you did look dashing in it but you always wore dresses.”

“Shall I get a drake scale dress made then?”

“Why are you always such an ass…” Anora mumbled out, pressing her face down into Elissa’s chest. 

“I think it would look nice. Bit off putting to some maybe.”

Anora stiffened her giggle by hiding her face deeper into Elissa’s chest, “I’m trying to be serious.”

“I think I might attract some funny looks if I wore one after wearing armor all the time.”

“I think you could wear them well again. Cousland blue, tailored and long sleeved. Curl your hair…” Anora moved her face from Elissa’s chest, pressing a few light kisses up Elissa’s chest until she reached her jawline. 

“I can’t wear a sword belt with a dress.”

“If we try hard enough, yes.”

The two settled into silence once more. Anora curled her head underneath Elissa’s neck, shutting her eyes softly. She focused on the sound of Elissa’s steady heartbeat and breathing. 

Luring Anora’s eyes shut, the warmth from the blanket and Elissa’s body eased the headache that had been plaguing her. 

“I can almost fool myself into thinking there’s no giant army of darkspawn wanting to kill all of us..” Elissa whispered.

 

“The quiet before the storm.” Anora mumbled sleepily, nuzzling her nose across Elissa’s collarbone. 

The two fell quiet, Elissa shutting her eyes again and focusing on the sound of the rain outside. 

“There’s something I have been meaning to ask you. Back after the Landsmeet, with my Father and the Joining.”

That made Elissa peek an eye open, looking down at Anora’s blonde head. The Queen hadn’t moved much, besides to inch herself closer to Elissa’s warm body, hand resting ontop of where her heart beat. 

“Ah, I..had forgotten about the outburst.”

“It’s true then? What you said? You…”

Elissa leaned up, resting her lower back against the arm of the couch, forcing Anora too to sit up in the redhead’s lap. 

“It is. I shouldn’t of told you, if the Order found out I spread their must guarded secret I would be hung from the highest tree.”

“You, Alistair, my Father. There’s no way to cure it?”

A shadow passed over Elissa’s face, dipping her head down to look away from Anora’s brilliant blue eyes, “Y..you can’t stand it, can you? That I am ta…”

“Don’t say that word. You’re not.” Anora’s hand clasped underneath Elissa’s chin, forcing the Warden to look up back at Anora’s face. 

“After all of this is done,  _ we _ will find a cure for you, for any Warden that wants to be freed from it. I..I never thought…”

Elissa’s hand clasped Anora’s cheek and angled their lips together into a soft kiss. Elissa’s warm breath washed over the side of Anora’s cheek once the kiss broke, “And afterwards, after you have cured me?”

“I’ll make you the second most powerful noblewoman in the Kingdom naturally.”

“Like that’ll help stop the rumors. ‘Odd that the Queen keeps throwing titles at Elissa Cousland’.”

“I am neither Exalted nor Anointed. I am but a woman, who loves and feels like any other. And I hold Elissa Cousland dear to me, more than any living being on this earth. Andraste had Shartan and I have Elissa.” Anora whispered out against Elissa’s lips. Already having her speech prepared in her head. 

Their lips caught together again, Elissa standing from the couch with Anora wrapping her legs around Elissa’s long body. The pair tumbled the few feet to the bed.

* * *

 

It was unlike Anora to disappear for so long. The Queen had left Elissa napping and by the time Elissa woke to an empty bed, the sun had already gone down. Not that Elissa minded, but having missed dinner and freshly napped, her stomach was growling for food. 

She didn’t know the halls of the Palace as well as she remembered. Elissa wandered from the wing that served as the bedroom chambers of the royal family. Finding her way to the rooms that were used for various meetings. 

Elissa paused outside one of the duel doors that lead to a meeting room. Hearing the sound of muffled voices and the light coming from underneath the gap. 

Elissa’s left hand sank around her back to where Fang rested, lifting her right hand up to the handle of the door. A moment of realization passed over Elissa, this was the Palace afterall. Anora could be in there meeting with someone and she was about to bust in there with a weapon drawn. 

Shaking her head, Elissa removed her hand from the dagger’s hilt. And twisted the door handle to enter the room. 

Three different heads snapped to where Elissa stood in the doorway. Anora stood in the center of her vision, to her right was Zevran and to her left was Bann Teagan. 

Elissa arched a brow and looked in between the gathered trio, “Uh,...hi?”

The two moments of silence finally broke with Teagan turning to bow his head to Anora and left the room, brushing past Elissa without another world. Anora’s hands were tucked in front of her body, fingers twisting and pulling at each other, “Elissa.”

Anora moved from around the table to approach Elissa, in doing so blocking Elissa’s view of the table.

“Did I miss something?” Elissa’s eyes caught Anora’s. 

“I was attempting to...lean on Teagan. Zevran was even trying to help, telling us stories of Antiva.” Anora offered a soft smile, looking over her shoulder to the elf. 

Zevran was leaning his hip into the side of the table, satchel hanging from a strap over his shoulder, “The good Bann was quite interested in the reowned whore houses in Anitva.”

The shivers in Anora’s fingers had stopped, sighing at Zevran, “There was something Teagan alluded to. Eamon plans to leave the city and make for the north road to link up with his forces.”

“Towards Highever? That doesn’t make any….” Elissa trailed off, eyes going wide at Anora. 

“We can not know for certain. Perhaps he plans to talk Fergus into aligning with him and Alistair to force me from the throne. We are relying on Highever’s army. If Eamon was to sway Highever to his side, the outcome would be dangerous for us.”

Elissa felt a headache coming on, brushing her fingers across her forehead, “Did Teagan  _ say _ it?”

“Not directly, no.” Zevran answered. 

“He can’t be that stupid to think my own Brother would turn against me? To try to  _ attack _ the Teyrn of Highever?”

“We do not know for certain. A raven will be sent shortly to warn Fergus just in case. We can not know for certain and if act  _ rashly _ in response, our few allies would divide anymore.” Anora stepped closer to Elissa, blue eyes searching for Elissa’s. 

“It’s  _ Fergus _ . I can’t…” Elissa sighed into the room. Anora was right, Elissa knew what Anora was alluding to. The rash actions coming from the only other living Cousland. 

“It is an extremely delicate situation. Allow me to handle it, Ellie. You have your own monstrous task before you.” 

Elissa felt as if she should be fighting and arguing with Anora but there was sense. This is what Anora did best, “If you need anything at all, you will come to me, alright?”

“Who else?” Anora smirked, closing the short distance to place a kiss to the tip of Elissa’s chin.

“Now, now, keep that behind closed doors.” Zevran waggled his eyebrows, passing the two women. 

Anora pushed Elissa out of the door, heading for the direction of the kitchens, “I am sure you’re hungry.”

Right at that moment, a loud growl escaped from Elissa’s stomach, making the Warden’s cheeks to go flush red. Earning a giggle from Anora and a chuckle from Zevran.

“You should’ve saw her in Redcliffe. First real meals we had in weeks, Elissa polished off three chickens by herself.” Zevran teased from his spot out in the hallway. 

With Anora shutting the doors to the meeting room, Elissa missed that the documents that had been spread across the table had been picked up.

* * *

 

“I gotta say, if the Queen’s right, Eamon’s got some fookin’ balls.” Gilmore comment from his spot around the war council’s table. 

Fergus tossed the letter onto the table and turned to stare out one of the many large windows. Spread across the circular war table was Gilmore, Iona, Ser Cedric, newly named Bann Mac Ritcher, Ser Stuart, Bann Reinhardt and lastly, Bann Warwick. 

Iona picked the letter from the table and read over it again, “Can she be trusted?”

“She’s the Queen. And Elissa helped her still, that has count for something.” Ser Cedric voiced. 

Gilmore snorted, earning a swift glare from Fergus whose head turned over his shoulder, “That’s ain't saying much, Cedric.”

“How many men does Arl Eamon command?” Bann Warwick broke the staring match that had formed between Gilmore and Fergus. 

“7,000, 8,000? Not counting the reserves he could call up. Eamon’s professional force has seen little fighting. Teagan’s Rainesfere levies would be the most seasoned. Compared to our own, Highever still carries the scars of Ostagar while Redcliffe is fresh.” Iona folded the letter and placed it back down onto the table. 

“I have always known Teagan to be more level headed Brother. What a shame.” Reinhardt mumbled out, rolling her neck as she did so. 

Fergus caught Iona’s eye, motioning to the letter, that Iona picked up once more and slipped into her pocket. 

“Amaranthine is still our goal. 2,000 Howe loyalists still hide behind the City’s walls. We can not strike out against Eamon if his intentions are still unknown.” Fergus turned fully to face the gathered commanders at the table.

“I will send a number of my people south to follow Eamon’s army. If we have any luck, the darkspawn in the south will delay Eamon’s force, giving us the time needed to make Amaranthine bend.” Iona said. 

“Ser Stuart, I will give you and the Storm Lords command of the Highever navy. If the remaining Howe loyalists are smart, they will try to flee across the sea to Kirkwall or to the capitol to petition the Queen. I don’t intend to allow that to happen.” 

“Our caravels and carracks will block the harbour.” Ser Stuart answered while nodding. 

“The rest will follow the main army. We will secure Knotwood Hills and Lord Marcus’s seat before moving to Vigil’s Keep. A force will be left behind in Knotwood and Vigil’s Keep to secure our flanks. Ser Stuart, half of your forces will land in the north region of the Feravel plains, a force will be left behind to secure the Coastlands road. We will rally around the walls of Amaranthine.” Fergus moved the marked wooden pieces along the large war map. 

“And of the food supply?” Iona asked. 

“We have enough for the march, Not counting what we will find at Knotwood and Vigil’s.” Warwick explained. 

“The City barely has enough supply for the winter…”

“I am aware.” Fergus’s voice broke over the elf, turning his eyes away from the members around the table. 

It was as they feared. Thomas had raided and stached the City’s food supply elsewhere. Meaning either his army starved, or if they didn’t act fast enough, Highever. 

“There is always the possibility of diplomacy, Your Grace. Allow me to send a raven.” Reinhardt reasoned. 

“That is what they fookin’ want. To hide behind their walls and food supply to make us bend to them. To the Fade with that!” Gilmore’s voice boomed. 

“The two are not Howe. I can reason with them.” Reinhardt sent a sharp glare towards Gilmore’s direction

Fergus itched his short beard, “No. Not unless we have any option and not certainly before we have even marched. I will not make terms while hiding behind the walls of Highever and that is the end of it. We will secure the rest of the grain and the matter will be closed before it becomes an issue.” 

“Is it wise to split our forces so if Eamon plans to turn coat? It will make it easier for him to defeat the three smaller pockets before closing in on us.” Bann Warwick studied the wap from his spot around the table. 

“If Knotwood does not resist to us, there will be no need to leave a force there. We should not alert Eamon that we know of his plans. Allowing him to draw in close to us. I believe a ploy can be worked.” Iona started, standing from her chair to grab a long wooden stick used to move the wooden blocks back and forth. 

“The Hinterland forces will take the North Road to the city. I will gamble that Eamon knows he can’t take Virigl’s Keep without showing his hand, meaning that he will march straight for the City.” Iona moved all the marked blocks of Fergus’s army to surround Amaranthine while she grabbed one more to stand in as the Hinterland army. 

Warwick tapped his fingers across his jaw, nodding his head, “We leave a strong force in Vigil's Keep.”

Iona smirked at the Bann, nodding her head, “Amaranthine will not require all of our men to siege it. We allow Eamon to drag in close to our siege camp, send a raven to Virgil's Keep, have the forces we have hiding surge out to cover the few hours ride, and before Eamon knows it, he’s surrounded.” 

The blonde elf moved the wooden figured to properly show her plan. 

“That’s assuming Eamon doesn’t outright attack us.” Gilmore said while a hand stroked his beard. 

“He won’t. The man thinks highly of himself but he needs Highever if he’s going to take on Queen Anora.” Bann Mac Ritcher leaned forward to rest his elbows onto the table, eyes studying the map. 

Every pair of eyes turned to the Teyrn who nodded his head slowly, “We will go with Iona’s plan. Ser Stuart and the Stormcoast will ride the waves while we march straight.”

“What of West Hills and Waking Sea?” Gilmore asked. 

“I have written to West Hills and Waking Sea with orders to march for the capital. The forces we have here are more than enough to support the Amaranthine siege. I have half a mind to send more.”

Bann Mac Ritcher shifted in his seat, mumbling something under his breath that made Gilmore nod his head. 

“Is there something you would like to add Ser Gilmore? Bann Mac Ritcher?” Fergus’s attention turned to the two highland men. 

“Just odd. This entire time Alfstanna and Franderel have gotten the better end of the deal. Howe kept them in power, didn’t lift a finger to help us.” Gilmore shrugged, eyes scanning over the people of the room. 

“They helped Elissa at the Landsmeet, they have proven their loyalty, Gilmore.” Iona said. 

_ “Not like we have.” _ Gilmore said simply, standing from his chair and rocking his knuckles on top of the table. 

Seeing that the meeting was over, the others rose from their chairs and bowed to Fergus before leaving the room. Bann Warwick lingered, watching the others leave before standing from his chair. 

“From my knowledge, neither West Hill or Waking Sea assisted Thomas Howe.” 

Fergus poured himself a glass of wine, not answering Warwick until after he took a long sip from the glass, “And why are you telling me this?”

“Ser Gilmore might be blunt but he makes a fair point.”

Fergus sipped from the glass, eyes focusing on the Lord in front of him. He motioned with his free hand for Warwick to sit back down, “Gilmore has said the same about you in private.”

“He is not stupid. My intentions are honest, Your Grace. I wish to see Highever rebuilt and this Blight ended.”

“There are many who wish to see you hanged for your treason. You bent the knee to the Howes.”

“So did many others. Waking Sea and West Hill among them. Nothing will change what has already come to pass. If we are to rebuild once more, we can not have one hand resting on a sword hilt at all times.” 

Fergus drowned the glass and fetched another glass, pouring it for the Bann, “To your knowledge, they did not help the Howes?”

Warwick took the glass and nodded his thanks, sipping the wine before giving an answer, “I was not held with high regard by the Howes, Your Grace. You know what Rendon did to your Family, paraded them through the streets. He sent his son out like an attack dog to make examples of a few. The Mac Eanraigs slaughtered the worst. Their entire seat was razed, hundreds killed. I, we, wanted to avoid that happening to us.” 

Fergus knew Warwick spoke some sense and truth. The Mac Eanraigs and countless others had been made examples of. It didn’t make the taste any better in Fergus’s mouth. As many others bent to appease Thomas Howe, others stood with him, fought with him while knowing the danger. 

“You have given me something to think about. That’ll be all.” Fergus forced a smile at Warwick. 

The Bann knew when he was dismissed. Standing from the table, he bowed and exited the room, leaving Fergus alone in the meeting room. 

_ ‘She’s the Queen. And Elissa helped her still, that’s gotta count for something.’  _ Ser Cedric’s voice came back to Fergus. 

The Teyrn sighed into the glass of his wine, refilling it and leaning back into the leather chair. 

The door to the room opened again, Fergus was unsurprised to see Iona making her way back over to him, “You don’t believe it, do you?” The elf asked. 

“Oh, I believe it. Eamon Guerrin is a snake.”

Iona arched a brow, drawing closer to Fergus’s side. Running her hands up along his large shoulders, standing behind the chair, “What is it then?”

Fergus sighed, taking a swig of his wine, “My sister has a...weakness for the Queen. Even as children, she always saw her as some misunderstood kind hearted woman..”

Iona’s fingers skimmed across the sides of Fergus’s neck, moving her head down to rest on his shoulder, “The rumors then…”

Fergus took a much longer swig of his wine to answer Iona’s question. 

“I question whatever if my sister has fallen back into old habits or if Anora has suddenly grown a heart.”

“I have always thought the Queen was a just and good ruler.”

“There’s not doubt of that. To the commoners, she’s a rose among thorns. But even a rose has thorns of its own.”

“She’s dangerous?”

“If she feels if she’s being threatened. Look at her feud with Eamon. My sister always had a way with her, I won’t lie. I have little intention to bow to some bastard Theirin that is going to be Eamon’s puppet. At least if Anora rules, the Couslands will have a place at the table.”

“I have sent word to have my agents move south. I have given Riley’s orders to move closer, if the need arise for a more forceful measure.”

“If Eamon truthfully wishes to kill me, it’ll be me running him through.” Fergus finished off his glass and stood. Wrapping his left arm around Iona’s slim waist, he connected their lips together.

Fergus’s hands dropped to Iona’s ass, lifting the elf up and sitting her down onto the edge of the war table, the kiss heating with each passing moment they stayed connected. 

“Enough of that. I can think of something better to fill my time with.” Fergus whispered out near Iona’s ear.

* * *

 

It was an unlikely trio that took to the streets once the rain had stopped. The skies over the city were still overcast with the threat of rain at any moment, but it didn’t stop Zevran, Duran and Morrigan to pick up a few things from the shops around the market. 

Duran needed pipe weed, Morrigan needed to restock on elfroot and Zevran needed to tease the witch after her long night at the Pearl.

“Is blonde elf your type then? You would love the whore houses in Anvita City. All plump lips and wide eyes.” Zevran strolled alongside the glaring black haired witch. Dressed in a long sleeved tunic and breeches, the fur lined cloak fell over his right shoulder, kept together by a golden pin.  

“Is he always this annoying?” Morrigan asked down to the dwarf. 

“You have fed him. Now you get to deal with him.”

“Have you written to her? Kallian is a gentle flower, my dear. Poetry, love letters, flowers. It’ll make her blush red.” Zevran leaned against one of the empty stalls. 

Morrigan’s eyes studied the quality of certain grounded roots of an old woman’s stall. The witch’s gold eyes arched up to catch Zevran’s grin, “Kallian is far from a gentle flower.”

Zevran threw his arm around Morrigan’s shoulder, the witch sighed loudly in response even before the elf started to speak, “We could invite her to join us…”

“No.” Morrigan said simply, shrugging off Zevran’s arm and stepped away heading for the next stall. 

Duran and Zevran stood next to each other, watching the witch from a few feet away as she shopped. 

“We’re going to get nothing out of her.” Zevran mumbled.

“We?”

“Kallian would be more open about it. I think a trip to the Alienage is in order.””

“You are rather focused on these two.”

“We’re sitting on our hands without any darkspawn, assassins, sellswords or nobles to kill.”

“You’re going to pair everyone off with someone, aren’t you?”

Zevran threw his arm around Duran’s shoulders and drew the dwarf closer to him, “What do you think about Ser Cauthrien and Sten?”

“By the sodding Stone..” Duran mumbled, the two friends going to find Morrigan.

* * *

 

The sharp knock to her study lured Anora from the letter she was writing. The drapes were closed tightly over the windows of the study. The sun had long dipped behind the horizon but the overcast skies remained leaving it to be a moonless night. 

“Your Majesty, Ser Cauthrien is  _ asking _ for an audience.” Erlina’s tired voice came from the other side of the door. 

By the handmaiden’s tone, Anora knew that Cauthrien was far from  _ asking _ to see her. Pinching the bridge of her nose, Anora sighed, “Let her in please.”

“So much for an early night.” Anora mumbled under her breath. 

Anora had to note that it was odd to see Cauthrien not in armor nor carrying her heavy greatsword. The woman was dressed as casually as she could imagine Ser Cauthrien could. Long sleeved tunic and breeches with a cloak hanging off her square shoulders. 

Erlina sealed the door behind the knight, leaving the two women to stand and sit in silence. Anora’s hands were clasped ontop of the desk, eyes fixed upon the night. Waiting for Cauthrien to speak. 

“Is there a reason you feel that you can demand an audience from me at this hour?” Anora broke the silence. 

“You’re the one that still said yes.” Cauthrien said softly, a tone of voice that didn’t sound right coming from Loghain’s second. 

There was a time that Anora liked Cauthrien, enjoyed the woman’s company. She reminded her of Elissa in many ways. Cauthrien was one of the few people Anora was able to trust when she ascended to the throne. 

“I..I need to talk. To you. About everything. I need to talk to  _ someone _ but you’re the only…” Cauthrien rambled on. 

Anora kept her eyes narrowed, pointing her finger to the chairs in front of the desk. 

Cauthrien followed the silent command, sitting in the seat and resting her elbows onto her knees. Her dark brown hair was nearly falling from the usual tight bun she kept it in. 

“When Loghain gave that order, I wished I was stronger. I wish I was stronger and was able to tell him no. To run him through right there in front of everyone. I thought about it, just in that moment. But I believed him, I believed him because he had lead us all through so much worse than Ostagar.” Cauthrien started, her eyes fixed on rug underneath the chair. 

“Many are guilty of doing nothing.” 

“All I have ever done was my sworn duty to my liege. I owe  _ everything _ to your Father. He gave me the chance to prove myself. He tutored me, he trained me, he took me under his wing. In many ways he was…”

“Ser Cauthrien, what is it you want?” Anora spoke over the rambling knight, deciding to cut to the heart of why she was here. 

“I..I don’t know.” Cauthrien whispered. 

“All I can think about is Ostagar now. I dream about it every night, seeing the look on Loghain’s face. I wonder now how long before he planned to do it. What drove him to leave our King to die? I stood by as  _ so much bad happened _ .” Cauthrien sighed into her hand, peeking up to look at the Queen. 

Anora did not allow a single emotion to play off of the mask she wore. Keep the icy blue stare down on the knight, refusing to think how closely what Cauthrien said registered with her. 

“If you were there, our positions switched, and you had the sword in your hand. Would you have been  _ strong _ enough to do what was right? To kill the man that had became your Father.”” Cauthrien whispered out, eyes now staring into Anora’s. 

“To break one oath to save another? The Warden was right.” The knight finally finished with a sigh that was holding back a rush of tears. 

Anora studied Cauthrien, blue eyes bearing down on her father’s trusted second. Cauthrien’s tanned skin had turned pale in the latest weeks. Bags hung from underneath Cauthrien’s eyes, dark black circles from the sleepless nights. 

The knight looked like a woman haunted by the choices she didn’t make. 

The question stopped Anora in her train of thought. What if she had been there? What if she had the chance to stop all of it would’ve she been able to do what was necessary to kill her Father? Or would she stand by and let Cailan die. 

She hated Cailan, she knew what he planned to do. But to leave him to die for the darkspawn? Was it any better than what he planned to do to her? 

“That will be all, Ser Cauthrien.” Anora waved her hand at the knight, suddenly not being able to be in the same room as the woman. 

If the knight was surprised, she didn’t let it show. She stood, bowed to the Queen and quickly exited. 


	15. Chapter 15

Anora sighed into her first cup of tea when a swift knock came to the door of her chambers. It was barely dawn and yet Anora knew what type of day it was going to be. The sun hadn’t shined in what felt like weeks, with rain storms passing back and forth. 

A pile of reports and letters awaited for her next to the silver tray of steaming food. Though the latter was namely for the Warden who was already working on tray number one of fresh eggs, half loaf of bread and cold chicken. 

The blonde brought the rim of her tea glass up, eyes studying the side of Elissa’s face. The redhead’s hair was pulled back into a tight high ponytail, bringing out the curves and edges of her face. The strong chiseled jawline chopping up and down on her breakfast. 

It was beginning to become a habit with the two, Unable to spend the night apart from each other. The small room that Elissa had just down the hallway from the Queen’s chambers were rarely used. 

With the Landsmeet gathering at Leften and still making away from across the Kingdom, it did offer them some breathing room to take risks such as that. 

It was a risk, a risk that Anora knew she shouldn’t keep on taking. Her eyes were still fixed upon Elissa’s face. The messy strands of red hair peeking out from the ponytail. Elissa green eyes caught Anora’s stare, smiling with still sleepy eyes. 

The knock to the door brought Anora from her thoughts, “Your Majesty, Ser Decker is here to see you.”

“Let him in.” Anora called back. 

The Queen sat up straighter in her seat and drew the long black overcoat tighter against her body, buttoning a few buttons to make herself look presentable. 

The first thing Anora noticed was the outfit change. She had grown used to the man wearing some level of armor and protection at all times. Instead now, he wore a fine dark grey tunic, dark leather pants, high boots and a short fur trimmed coat. With the handle of his sword pointing out from his hip. 

His salt and pepper hair was neatly trimmed, his similar colored beard only being the length of a full stubble. 

Decker bowed in front of the two women, sparing the Warden a glance before settling onto the Queen, “I hope I am not interrupting something.”  

“There’s not many things my Lord Chancellor can interrupt,” Anora motioned to another empty chair at the table, “Come sit, Elissa and I were about to go over the day’s business.” 

Elissa looked up from her plate with egg dripping from her mouth. Sending a look to Anora that read along the lines of, ‘Oh were we?’

Ser Decker nodded and took the offered seat. Erlina appeared from elsewhere in the Queen’s chambers, pouring the man a cup of tea. 

“I will take your change of dress as your answer.”

Decker nodded his head slowly, “I will act as your Lord Chancellor for as long as you will have me, Your Majesty.”

Anora sensed the worry still laced deep in the man’s tone. She offered him a rare true smile, “I have no doubt in my decision. Look at the alternative.”

Both set of eyes turned back to where Elissa had started her second plate. The Warden paused to look up at them, mumbling, “That’s a bit rude.”

The dry joke eased a chuckle from Decker, the tension hanging over the man disappearing for the moment. 

Anora turned her attention back to the pile of reports and letters, “The Dwarves are being slowed along the north road from flooding.”

“What of the Hinterland banners?”

Anora shifted the papers around before finding a letter bearing the seal of House Cousland, “Teyrn Fegus has sent ‘scouts’ to shadow the Hinterland army. The last update said they were nearing Kinloch Hold.”

“Has he began the march towards Amaranthine?”

“Yes but with this weather, Maker knows how long it will take to cross half of the Teyrnir.” 

“What of West Hill and Waking Sea?” Elissa asked, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and turning her attention away from the remains of her breakfast and to the meeting. 

“Alfstanna have written, voicing  _ concerns  _ about Fergus.”  

“Concerns?"

“She and those who went to the Landsmeet fear the backlash from Fergus for ignoring the Highever civil war and focusing on ending the Blight. Fergus has sent ravens to them, ordering them to march for Denerim but she still fears.”

“It’s Fergus for Andstrade’s sake. What does she think he’s going to do, hang them for treason?”

“I believe Bann Alfstanna raises a fair point,” Decker started, “Waking Sea and West Hill folded to the Howes quickly. Those who fought next to Fergus from the start could say they’re traitors for supporting Howe rule.”

“Fergus spared Bann Warwick and his 4,000 man army. I know what type of man my brother is.” Elissa shot back, her face starting to become a shade of red.

“He spared him because the Teyrn knew he needed the forces if he was to secure the rest of his Teyrnir.”

Elissa suddenly stood from her chair but was stopped short by Anora placing her hand onto Elissa’s forearm. The two women caught each other’s eyes and within a few seconds, Elissa found herself sitting back down from the Queen’s blue eyes. 

“Once this is over, I will explain to Fergus how loyal Alfstanna and Franderel have been to the Crown. If he’s ordered them to march to Leften then he understands this too. And the importance of keeping all of Ferelden on the same side.” Anora squeezed Elissa’s forearm before retreating her hand back to her lap.

Elissa’s answer was taking a sip from the pitcher of sweet wine while Decker nodded at Anora. 

“The larger matter of business is the Chantry. The Grand Cleric is ordering for our two blood mages to be transferred to Chantry authority.” Anora swiftly changed the topic. 

“I don’t see why we need either of them, Your Majesty. We have already given the Grand Cleric a black eye for demanding Templar support. Pleasing her might take us further.”

“Caladrius still has information key to finding the kidnapped elves.” The Warden found her voice once more. 

“We have all his documents, do we not? It must be written somewhere in there. Denying the Chantry this would be disastrous to the start of your reign, Your Majesty.  They are the most powerful institution in Thedas.” 

“The same institution that backed down with a few spare threats.” Elissa reasoned. 

“And after the Blight, the Chantry will remember the choice of actions Her Majesty took to get their support. Appeasement is not a sign of weakness, Your Majesty. I dealt with the Chantry and their Templars numerous of times during my time in the City Guard. They are not a group to be questioned.” 

“The youngest of them we do not need. Give the Chantry him while Caladrius will remain our informant.”

“Then the Chantry will slander Ferelden saying we are harbouring blood mages and call an Exalted March down on us. Something I am sure the Empress Celene would take great pleasure in enforcing.” 

Anora sighed and rubbed her hand against the side of her head. Both of them made sense. Caladrius was smarter than he looked, he wouldn’t have given them all the information they needed to find the missing elves. 

But was she prepared to go up against the Chantry? 

“The Divine is a kind hearted woman, I could write to her and explain the situation.” Anora mused out loud. 

“And while we wait for a response, the Grand Cleric takes steps necessary to have a show of force. You have thrown the first punch, Your Majesty, now it’s time for the Chantry to remind Ferelden why it should be respected.” 

“We can give them Atticus, hang him or do whatever they wish. It’ll please the Alienage and the Chantry.”

“The question remains why we will be sparing a blood mage slaver.”

“The Alienage would understand what we need the information directly from Caladrius.”

“Just as Shianni understood why you spared Loghain, Warden?”

Anora arched a brow in surprise. Watching the two stare each other down from over the short length of the table. She shouldn’t be that surprised, Decker had spent his entire life in the capital and dealing with the city lowlives, it left him blunt and to the point. There were few that could actively stand up to Elissa Cousland. 

A virtue and a curse. 

“I personally believe that Caladrius still has information we need. He knows the only thing keeping him alive will not be telling us the whole story until he knows he has a deal.”

“You’re planning on making a deal with him, Your Majesty? A dangerous move.”

“I have full faith in Elissa to deal with him.” 

Elissa snapped from her anger and twisted her head at Anora, “Aye. He’ll be dealt with once we get what we need from him.”

“I’ll be blunt, Your Majesty, I don’t like it. I can see some sense in it but it’s a dangerous line to be walking on.”

“It’s a line I know far too well, Decker,” Anora said softly, missing the look Elissa sent her way, “Erlina, send for the Grand Cleric.”

* * *

 

Members of the Royal Guard, with their red and gold trimmed armor, lined the walls of the throne room. Sets of two standing every 20 feet apart from each other. Their shields were presented outwards, bearing the twin mabari sigil of Ferelden.

Anora sat upon the throne. Every piece of her outfit had been hand picked. From the gold and green dress, brown leather boots and cloak hanging off her right shoulder. Blonde hair braided by Erlina’s skilled fingers, Maric’s crown freshly polished. 

Decker stood to her right in the same outfit he had worn that morning. His quiet stare was full front to the far side of the room where the doors stood. 

Elissa was to her left, dressed fully in her dragonbone armor minus the helm. Red hair was pulled back into a tightly braided single braid. Both gloved hands rested on Starfang’s hilt that rested on her side, green eyes scanning back and forth over the throne room. 

The doors to the room opened, admitting the Chantry’s party. Elemena was in the full front, dressed in a similar fine set of robes she had worn before. A step back and to her right was Seeker Trevelyan, and behind them in two neat rows was a Templar escort. 

Anora rose from the throne to greet the party. Elemena glare was centered fully on the Queen once the Chantry officials came to the base of the stairs that lead up to where Anora stood. 

“Grand Cleric Elemena, Seeker Trevelyan; I thank you for coming.” Anora’s voice was crisp and the smallest bit cheerily. 

If looks could kill, Anora would be dead where she stood. It appeared as if Elemena had swallowed a whole lemon, a look that was becoming common on the aged woman.

“You are obviously much too busy with the Blight to answer my invites for tea at the Chapel so instead this must do.”  Elemena’s tone was cold and to the point. Trying to stand tall and stare down Anora from the tip of her nose. 

“Quite right, Grand Cleric, I am glad you understand,” Anora’s smile was soft, with only the smallest edge of a smirk threatening to show, “Seeker Trevelyan, always a pleasure.”

The dark haired man bowed his upper body, “Your Majesty.” His voice was kind, offering an easy going smile that contrasted the grimness of the Order he was a part of. 

Elemena’s face twisted more from the Seeker’s pleasant tone. She sent a glare in the Seeker’s direction, turning her eyes back up to the Queen, “The Chantry wishes to know when the blood mages that you hold in Fort Drakon will be given to the Templar Order for proper keeping.”

Anora took the time while Elemena was speaking to sit back down onto the throne. Crossing one long toned leg over another and rested her arms across the armrests. 

“The eldest, Caladrius, holds key information to the whereabouts of those citizens that were sold into Slavery.”

“Those...gentlemen you call the City Guard, raided their warehouses. Surely there’s written information that will serve the Crown’s need.” 

“True, but I and my Council agree that Caladrius is holding back information for a false plea of mercy.”

That caused a smirk to come to Elemena’s lips, arching a brow up at Anora, “Surely the Ferelden Crown won’t entertain such a notion as making deals with blood mages.” 

“Not necessarily. If the Heretic believes he will receive mercy in face of offering us more information, surely it would be to the benefit of both the Chantry and the Crown to...pretend with such a notion for the being. “ Anora explained. 

“Give us him and I shall have the information you seek within hours. There is not much a mage can hide from a Seeker.” Elemena motioned with her hand to Hadrian. 

“Information given under distress is usually sloppy and forced.” Hadrian chimed in, scratching his light stubble. 

“Nevertheless, Maleficars fall under Chantry’s authority. Do you dare to question the authority of the Maker himself, Anora?” 

Anora held back the urge to sigh at the Cleric. There was something to be said about the power of dramatics in politics but Elemena didn’t understand the difference. 

“Your Grace, while a blood mage does fall under the authority of the Chantry, in such times that we live in, the authority of the Crown to rule and uphold peace must not be questioned.” Decker filled the silence. 

Elemana attention turned from the Queen to look the newly made Chancellor up and down, “Colonel Decker, or is it Ser now?”

“Lord Chancellor.” Anora commented, rubbing her temple with a forefinger. 

“ _ Lord Chancellor of Ferelden _ ,” Elemena mumbled to herself, “The son of a hedge knight.” 

“What of the other mage? Atticus.” Seeker Hadrian asked from his spot next to Elemena. 

“He is little use to us. I see no reason for him to be allowed to live. It is Caladrius that we need still.”

“I see a compromise then. Give us the younger brother and once you have the information you need from Caladrius, he too can face the Maker’s justice.” Hadrian nodded his head, much to the ike of Elemena. 

“I did not know Ferelden formed pacts and deals with blood mages.” 

“It might beg the question what the Chantry and Templar Order in Ferelden was during while blood mages hunted citizens from the streets of the capitol, Elemena.”

Elissa stepped forward, pausing Elemena from offering another barb, “Grand Cleric, I will not pretend to understand what happened here in the past year. The deals that had to be made, the deeds that needed to be done. I understand the position you are in, you said it yourself before the Landsmeet. The Crown and the Chantry are the two pillars that keep any Kingdom up.”

Anora caught on to where Elissa was taking this, standing from the throne. The Queen approached slowly down the steps, “We must stand united. We, all of Ferelden, no matter race or birth share a common enemy. The Blight, the darkspawn, the Archdemon care little for political allegiance, the matters of the Maker or so forth. It is us versus them.” 

“Allow me to repair the damage my Father did to this Kingdom. Caladrius is the key to finding where our people are in Tevinter. And I will make sure that history remembers the actions of Grand Cleric Elemena of Ferelden during these troubling times. Where Crown and Chantry stood together as the pillars of strength that kept their people up.”  

Anora stood on the last step before it dropped down to where Elemena stood. The Queen stepped off the last step to stand in front of Elemena. The blonde had a few inches compared to the older Cleric but Elemena stood tall still. 

“There is only one war that matters, Your Grace. That is the war between the living and the tainted.” Elissa took another step down on the staircase. 

A range of emotions was playing across Elemena’s face. The Cleric and Queen locking eyes over the short distance that still separated them. They needed each other, dividing Ferelden even more would lead to the downfall of them all. 

“You are your Father’s daughter.” Elemena mumbled out. 

Elemena took a deep breath, looking from Anora to glance at Elissa and then back to the Queen, “There will be questions that demand answers once this is over.” 

“As we both know.”

The sour look was still plastered across Elemena’s face. The elder woman stepped close to Anora, whispering something to her so only the Queen could hear. 

Elissa notice how Anora’s back was stiff, her hands clasped tightly in front of her as Elemena stepped back to speak, “So be it,  _ Your Majesty.  _ I shall expect the mage by sundown.”

Without another word, Elemena dipped her head and turned, heading back the way she came with Hadrian and the Templars. 

Elissa came to stand next to Anora, the other woman had her eyes set forward, watching the retreating form of the Cleric. 

“What did she say to you?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Anora turned her head over her shoulder to where Decker still stood, “Send word to Kylon, see that it is done.”

“Very well.” Decker stepped down the steps of the throne and left the room in search for a runner. 

“I don’t know if I should call you brainless or brave for challenging the Chantry twice now.”

“Brainless. But you swear that Caladrius has not given us everything. I pray for all of our sakes that is true.” Anora glanced back up to Elissa, patting her armored forearm.

* * *

 

The village of Leften rested near a day’s ride from the capital. Under the authority of the Arling of Denerim, it rested on the banks of the Drakon River. It was one of the many larger crossings over the river, with the large strong bridge on the edge of the village being wide enough to have two carts run side by side on it. 

The Gwaren forces were the first to arrive and start making camp near the outskirts of the village. The first of the Elven clans begun to trickle in alongside the different forces of the Bann’s Alliance. 

Elissa stood ontop of a grassy hill that offered a view of the growing war camp. A small escort stood a dozen feet back, allowing the woman her privacy. 

Far over the horizon she could make out the Dragon's Peak mountain. Her eyes scanned over the neat rows that made up the Gwaren part of the camp. Even now without their Teyrn, the forces regarded themselves as the most highly disciplined army in Ferelden. 

The Bann’s Alliance carried tents of all different colors. Greens, red, golds, browns, blacks. Showing the numerous smaller houses that had banded together to fight Gwaren, whom they now had to fight with. 

Around the edge was a tight ring of aravels, with more coming each day as the warriors of the Dalish Clans moved north out of the forests. 

The wind flapped at Elissa’s body. Wearing a long harden leather coat with her upper half plated with the dragonbone armor while her lower half only bore the shin guards. Her usual dark grey fur coat had been traded in for one from Anora’s wardrobe, the Queen had become attached to Elissa’s. 

Elissa did not stay alone for long, Loghain and Riordan with a small escort rode from the direction of the City. Joining the lone Warden upon the grassy hill. Dismounting and walking their horses closer, the trio stared out over their growing army. 

The overcast skies were the only break from the rain. With one storm after another hammering off the coast. There was talk of flooding in the Bannorn and along the north road from the rainstorms, slowing their armies. 

“How many bridges are there that the darkspawn could use to cross over the river?” Riordan asked. 

“More than a dozen. Too many to cover all at once.” Loghain answered, hands looping through his sword belt. 

“Have the darkspawn ever shown to siege a city, Riordan?” Elissa asked over towards the most Senior Warden present. 

“There’s written accounts I have read from past Blights. When there’s an Archdemon, it begins to make commanders, Generals, to help lead. Anymore than that is theory.”

“I have had few experiences with darkspawn but they never seemed capable to organize and discipline soldiers.” Loghain asked, looking from Riordan to Elissa. 

“They’re not as mindless as you think. They laid ambush after ambush in the Deep Roads. I believe they can sense us as we can sense them. The weaker ones can’t tell the difference until you’re in front of them. The stronger ones appear to know that we’re not them.” Elissa explained. 

“Warden Elissa is right. Lone groups of darkspawn might be mindless but under the command of an Archdemon or commander, they can be more dangerous than any Orlesian legion. During sieges they do not require rest, throwing wave after wave at their enemy.” Riordan tone’s was relaxed, as if a teacher speaking to their students. 

“Are we preparing for a siege?” Loghain’s jaw was clenched, hands balled into a fists around his belt. Elissa turned her eyes away from the Teyrn, he would learn in time that he was no longer the Hero of the River Dane. 

“That has yet to be seen. South Reach is a fortress and has held out this long. Dragon’s Peak would make for an ideal stand.” Riordan said. 

“It matters not if half our army is still not here. The Dwarves are being delayed by rains, my Brother is still in Highever. Hinterlands are taking the long way around…” Elissa mumbled, running a gloved hand down over her worn features. 

“The Army of Gwaren is still the army I built. They are disciplined, trained and ready to fight. You can trust them.” Loghain took a step closer to Elissa. 

“That sounds like that will end up well.” Elissa shook her head, eyes scanning over the tents. 

“I was spared because you believed I could still be of used, I am offering you that use. I spent most of my adult life training and funding the Gwaren army. They are the premier fighting force in Ferelden.”

“If they could stand united.”

Riordan glanced to their right. A column of riders approaching them from the direction of the warcamp. Unknown green banners bearing a black bird were carried by a number of riders, “We have company.”

Loghain and Elissa’s head turned in the direction of the riders. Elissa cursed out, “Of fucking course. The MacGarths.”

Loghain stood up straighter, sending a glance in Elissa’s direction while the Warden rested both her hands on her sword’s hilt. 

It did not take long for the column of MacGarth riders to arrive at the hill. At the lead was an unfortunate familiar sight for Elissa. She had only met Elizabeth’s brother a few passing times and in those few moments, Elissa made it a job to avoid the boy. 

Edward MacGarth thought highly of himself. Dismounting from his Orlesian bred warhorse, Edward had kept his boyish charms that he had been known for during Elissa’s life at Court. An aura of ‘look at me’ surrounded the man with each step he took closer to the three Wardens. 

The chain and plate was covered by a green surcoat that bore the MacGarth sigil on it. The man’s dark hair was nightly trimmed along the light stubble on his cheeks. He looked much like his sister, the same perfect black hair, the same perfect natural tan from their Anitvian mother. 

“Ah, Elissa Cousland! The months haven’t been good to you.” Edward’s cheery voice quipped through the cold morning air. 

Elissa’s hands flexed tightly around the sword’s hilt. It was the middle of the Blight and childhood rivalries still haunted Elissa at every turn. 

“Bann MacGarth.” Loghain gave a short nod of his head. 

Edward turned his hazel-green eyes to the Teyrn, looking up and down the man, “Your Grace.”

“He’s a Warden now.” Elissa finally found her voice, it coming out more like a hiss than what she meant. 

Edward chuckled lightly, turning his attention back to Elissa, “What did the Queen say, ‘Such things can be overlooked’?”

Silence fell over the four. Edward’s smirk plastered across his lips. The man rested his hands on his hips, “Well, we’re all are on the same side now. Fighting in the  _ defining battle _ of this Age.” 

Elissa counted to five in her head to keep herself from lashing out at the smug asshole, “And how is your sister? I must've missed her at the Landsmeet.”

“She’s been away from Court for about the same length you were.” The smirk faltered on Edward’s face. Something that Elissa did notice. 

“And why’s that? Shoved away in the... _ keep _ you have.”

A frown came to Edwards’s face, shrugging his shoulders, “She said the capitol wasn’t agreeing with her. Too many people packed into such a small space. Elizabeth took the death of Cailan hard, just like the Queen. But I hear now that she’s doing much better since you have returned to us.” 

Loghain glanced in between Edward and Elissa. The Warden appeared to be out of practice or she simply hated the MacGarths that much. A range of emotion played across her face, the tight body language, her hands gripping the sword hilt to keep herself in check. 

He was impressed by Elissa’s restraint to say the least. He was little fan of Edward MacGarth or his family.  

“And what is it that you needed Bann?” Elissa grunted out from in between her clenched jaw. 

“South Reach is nearly empty. Arl Bryland and Bann Sighard are seeing to protecting the rear before joining the rest of us here. Without our Crown chosen commanders, the Gwaren Army  _ awaits _ Her Majesty’s orders in the meantime.” 

“We are to hold at Leften while the rest of the armies marshal. The Elves are arriving and by the end of the week the first of the Dwarves shall begin to trickle in. I will warn against any  _ ideas _ with the former members of the Bann’s Alliance.” Elissa found her voice, her hands easing from the tight grip on the hilt. 

“As I said, we’re all on the same side now,  _ General  _ Cousland. Please do give my best to the Queen.” Edward clicked his feet together and turned on his heel. 

“Pompous, self righteous asshole. Lying cheating whoring...” Elissa cursed to herself as they watched the young Bann ride away. 

“The MacGarth host one of the larger forces in Gwaren. Anora needs them. Just as much as she needs you with a cool head.” Loghain whispered in a low tone to Elissa. 

Elissa twisted her upper body to face Loghain, eyes narrowing dangerously, “Do I need to remind you of your place here, Warden?”

Elissa turned on her heel and marched to where her horse was being kept. Loghain watched the Warden mount and ride off with her escort back in the direction of the city. 

“Come, Loghain. We should inspect the surrounding countryside. If the south falls, the battle will come here.” Riordan patted the man on his shoulder and made for their horses. 

Loghain held back a growl of frustration and followed.

* * *

Anora was pulled from her quiet lunch by Erlina peeking her head into the sitting room, “Your Majesty, Lord Oswyn is asking for you.”

“See him in. And fetch him a plate.” Anora cleaned her hands with a white linen napkin and leaned into her chair. 

A few rays of sun escaped through the overcast skies outside, leaking into the sitting room, giving it some natural light. Anora was dressed still in the same dress from the morning before. 

She was glad to be away from Elissa’s presence. It was always so hard to think clearly with the redhead so close to touch. Elissa was temptation, the other life that she could have. It was a weakness she couldn’t afford, not with making all but war with the Chantry. 

Eamon, the Chantry, who else would stand in her way of progress? All this to end the  _ Blight _ . Why all these extreme lengths to stop the greatest evil Thedas had ever known?

Anora’s eyes were brought back to the entrance of the sitting room where Oswyn and Erlina slowly approached. She remembered Oswyn has a kind hearted young man. Strong and one of the most skilled knights in all of Gwaren. 

Instead now the man walked with a heavy limp and wooden cane. Dirty blonde hair that had been wavy dirty locks the last time she saw him was now slowly growing back after being shaved clean. 

The man that stood in front of her now was nothing like the man she had known from before. Anora rose from the chair, waving her head at Oswyn who was attempting to bow in respect, “There’s no need for that, Oswyn.”

“You are gracious, Your Majesty.” Oswyn’s right leg was trembling, leaning his weight again onto the oak cane. 

Erlina reappeared with a covered silver tray of food. Placing it on the coffee table in front of Anora, the elf maid removed the cover and disappeared once more. 

“Please, sit.” 

Oswyn smiled in response and picked out one of the high leather back chairs. The chair rocked with the sudden weight of Oswyn but kept up right. The man sighing now that the weight was taken off his leg. 

“I had meant to come sooner, but Father took me from the capitol as soon as Lady Elissa freed me.”

“I understand, Oswyn. What happened to you was unforgivable.”

Oswyn nodded his head slowly. Eyes leaving the Queen’s profile to the table in front of him. His hands clasped the cane in between his legs, running his thumbs over the worn wood, “I...I..”

Anora watched Oswyn closely. Tears were starting to well behind Oswyn’s eyes, the grip on his cane becoming white knuckled. He bent his head down, resting his forehead against the handle of the cane. 

“I am sorry, Your Majesty.” Oswyn  whispered. 

Anora stayed still in her seat, a sudden dryness coming to her throat. Oswyn peeked his head back up and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, “I owe everything to Lady Elissa and you.” 

Instead of gratitude, Anora felt ill. It all coming to a sudden rush to her, hitting her like a wave. She could picture the Oswyn from before standing in front of her. Tall and strong, wearing a set of plate armor. He had everything in front of him. 

Now, the man that stood here looked as if he had aged 20 years in the span of one. His body broken, healed and then broken again. Under a careful sadistic hand. Because of her Father, because of her. 

Emotion pulled in Anora’s gut, “It is, I ,that owe everything to you Oswyn. It is because of House Mac Tir you were robbed of a future.”

Oswyn smiled sadly at Anora, “Don’t pity me, Your Majesty. Pity the man who did it. For he is the one that must answer for it before the Maker. ” 

_ ‘I wonder what I shall answer for.’ _ The thought came to Anora’s head. 

“You are wise as you are kind, Oswyn.”

“There is no need for that, Your Majesty. I came too, to offer my services. I will never ride properly again nor fight. That chapter in my life is over, but I am still my Father’s heir. One day, the Bann of Dragon’s Peak, and I wish to be of help to Ferelden. Maker knows we will need it.”

“And what is it that you have in mind, Oswyn?”

“Dragon Peak is rich in raw materials. Our gold and silver mines still have some life in them and we can increase our lumber trade. We have been lucky untouched so far by the Blight, my Father and I are prepared to loan gold to the Crown for rebuilding efforts.”

Anora was knocked off guard for half a moment. Oswyn stayed soft spoken but she had not expected such an offer. Anora quickly regained control her emotions and schooled her face, “And what would Dragon’s Peak want in return for such a  _ donation. _ ”

“The Crown, and Queen’s, friendship and trust. This is not politics, Your Majesty, this is doing what is right. Many have and will suffer before the Blight is over. All I ask is that the Crown remembers it.”

It was naturally politics. Anora studied Oswyn closely once more. There was many things the man could want. As she currently sat, she was the most powerful noblewoman in Ferelden. The question of what will happen to Gwaren will have to be answered after the Blight. Leaving a number of Houses in the seek of the Teyrnir.

It could be a build up to a marriage offer. Anora would have to give credit to the Dravichs, having the gall of offer their newly crippled son to the single Queen of Ferelden. 

“The Crown is gracious for such a donation, Oswyn. But I have yet to eat for lunch and we have this platter just waiting for us.” Anora smiled softly to Oswyn, running her palm along the material of the couch arm. 

She saw how Oswyn’s right eye twitched for the smallest moment. Eyes dipping down to trace along the long side of Anora’s neck, “I would love to, Your Majesty.”

* * *

 

Anora caught Elissa’s eyes through the reflection in the mirror of her vanity. Dawn had yet to rise but both women had been awaken for most of the night. Elissa stood from the edge of the bed and patted closer to the vanity. 

Anora’s eyes fluttered shut at the feel of Elissa’s fingers gliding through her blonde hair. Leaning over, Elissa grabbed the brush out of Anora’s hand and begun to brush it down through the blonde waves. 

“You really do need a trim.” Elissa said while gliding the brush down the wavy blonde hair. 

Usually the longest Anora wore her hair was to the bottom point underneath her shoulder blades. Instead now, it reached the middle point of her spine. 

“Next you’re going to tell me I have a grey hair.” Anora sleepily mumbled out, leaning into the chair back. 

The brushing stopped followed by Elissa running her fingers along the top of Anora’s hair, “Bad news…”

Anora tried her best to hide the smile that was growing on her features by forcing a frown. It lasted until their eyes met in the mirror and the smile broke across Anora’s face followed by a giggle. 

Elissa leaned  the short distance to press a kiss to Anora’s ear. Earning a blush to appear up on the side of Anora’s pale neck and reached her cheeks. 

“I wish my hair was brighter. Platinum. Like _ Her Imperial and Royal Majesty, Celene. _ Cailan always said I should dye it.” Anora found herself talking, focusing on the feel of the brush gliding through her hair. 

Elissa responded with placing the brush down onto the vanity and leaning forward against the back of Anora’s chair. Placing her lips back to Anora’s ear, Elissa kissed down the side of Anora’s jawline, breathing hot air into the other woman;s ear, “I think you’re absolutely, breathtakingly, beautiful with the color you have or any hair color.”

Anora release a shaky breath, tilting her head to press against the side of Elissa’s face. Enjoying how the redhead nuzzled her nose across her cheek, “Even if it was grey?” 

“Even if it was grey.”

Elissa wrapped her arms around Anora’s waist, leaving her chin perched on the her lover’s shoulder. The Warden’s eyes shut, defecting to focus on the sound of their shared heartbeats while Anora studied their connected bodies from the reflection of the mirror. 

“Did Atticus ever…”

“No. no he didn’t. The short time I was under Howe’s thumb, I was more worried about the Arl himself. And even he didn’t dare. At least, not that soon. Maker knows what would’ve happened if you hadn’t showed up so quickly.” Anora whispered softly. 

“The entire thought; blood mages in the capitol. For that long…”

“Decker hounded for months to be allowed to restore justice over the streets but Howe, and my Father, refused him. I had a theory Howe had a hand in it but being the one that  _ hired _ them was not one of those.”

“Caladrius will give us the information, Anora. I promise you it.”

“I know. Rather us than the Chantry knowing the full scope of what happened.”

There was something in Anora’s tone that made Elissa pause for a second, but quickly shook the thought from her head. 

“We’ll make it right. No matter.”

“I agree. You should sneak back to your rooms before the sun rises. There’s already enough rumors circling like crows to a corpse.” 

Elissa stood from behind Anora’s chair, running her hands up along Anora’s sides as she did so,” If you say so.”

“You are insatiable, aren’t you?”

“Side effect of being a Warden I hear.” Elissa threw over her shoulder on her way out of the bedroom.

* * *

 

The Chantry and, to a smaller extent, Anora, had gone to great lengths for the public showing. From the location in the center of the Alienage, to the Templars and City Guardsmen that were selected to guard, to the type of rope. 

It was a performance. A performance for the Chantry, for the Crown, for the Alienage. Atticus’s death meant much more than killing an apostate 

Anora kept Elissa close to her. The Warden’s form covered in her plated armor, green eyes scanning the crowd from underneath the visor of her helm as the Queen’s retinue made their way to the center of the Alienage. 

The Royal Guard kept a tight circle around the retinue. The main road that lead through the Alienage were lined with the City Guard. Elves and humans alike lined the streets aiming to catch a glimpse of the Tevinter mage.

Elissa had spread out the members of the Grey Company elsewhere in the Alienage. Having Zevran, Duran and Wynne with the other political members while the others were in the streets. 

Anora stood at the full front of the retinue. Crown catching the rays of sun that had broken through the overcast skies. Her dress was in tradition Ferelden style, long sleeved and a natural blue color paired with Elissa’s wolf fur cloak around her shoulders. 

The Queen tuned out the screams and yells of the crowds. She trusted Kylon’s men to keep from a full blown riot from forming. 

“Death for Loghain!!”

“Death to the Tevinter!”

The center stage was in the center of the Alienage. On top of the stage built around the Vhenadahl, it had been modified for the hanging. 

Standing staggered next side each other, went City Guardsmen then Templar, all around the base of the stage and square. The Templar’s red and steel armor with Andraste’s flaming sword paled in comparison to the chain and gambesons the guards wore. 

Elemena and Seeker Hadrian were waiting for them next to the short set of stairs that lead up to the gallows. 

The Grand Cleric glared at the Queen while Hadrian offered Elissa a curt nod. 

“The Maleficar was not  _ forthcoming _ with any information.” Anora wondered if Elemena’s frown was permanently plastered across her face now. 

“As I feared. Let us put an end to this. I don’t like the look of the crowds.” Anora replied, taking the first step up. 

The gallows and stage was large enough for the heads of the Crown and the Chantry to stand with room to spare. 

Kylon and a group of Templars were waiting for them. Barely standing in the middle of the tight group was Atticus. The symbol of the Chantry carved onto Atticus’s forehead. The mage was dressed in a raggy set of dark black robes, barely standing up if it was not for the two Templars keeping him up. 

Silence began to fall over the tightly packed square as the Grand Cleric stepped forward. Hands raising to the sky, “This is a most holy day. For the evil that has purged this city has finally come to rest. The Heathen shall hang!”

The crowd responded well to Elemen’s dramatics. A series of random shouts, screams and cries that all mixed together into an ugly burst of sound. 

It was namely Elves this close to the stage and Anora easily made out Shianni standing near the front. In contrast to her angry people, Shianni appeared quiet. Staring forward at Anora, unflinching. 

Elemena turned and nodded to Kylon. The Colonel grasped Atticus’s arm and started to march the blood mage forward to where the noose hung. 

Kylon was supported by the twin Templars, either of the great helmed knights standing on either side of the mage as the silent guards. The ginger haired man stepped away from the noose while the Templars wrapped the rope around Atticus’s neck.

Kylon unrolled a scroll and begun to read, “Atticus Marcus Maevryn, you have been found guilty of the most unholy practice of Blood Magic. Per the laws of this Kingdom and those of his Holy Lord, the Maker, your magic has been stripped. For the crimes of practicing slavery, murder, bribery and corruption, you will hang from the noose until death.”

Elemena stepped forward once more, “As the word of the Chant of Light, you shall be branded and named Maleficar. Accursed heathens, heretics to the Light. You shall find no rest in this world or beyond.” 

Anora found Loghain standing in the crowd. With Zevran and Riordan on either side of him and a hood covering his head. She knew it was him, a part of her wandered what he was thinking in this moment. 

Atticus should not be alone to face the noose. He should’ve been there, standing in rags and chains for what he did. Anora schooled her face to keep the anger from appearing on her face. Squeezing her fingers tightly to keep in control of her emotions. 

Kylon rolled the scroll and took a step back, nodding to the two templars. 

The noose was wrapped and pulled tight around Atticus’s neck. The blood mage blinking and staring over the crowd. Slowly, while the templars stepped away, his head turned to Kylon, speaking in that calm and flat voice, “You must tell me if I played the part well.”

* * *

 

As soon as the doors to her chambers were closed and Anora was alone, she was searching for the pitcher of wine. Not bothering to pull herself a glass and instead took a series of short sips from the bronze pitcher. 

Placing the pitcher back down, Anora walked the short distance to her study. Opening one of the bottom drawers on the desk, a bottle of Antivan whiskey waited for her, needed for nights such as this. 

Easing herself down into the chair, she pulled the cork of the bottle with her teeth and took a healthy swig. Her face twisting from the intense burning sensation that moved down her throat and into her chest. 

Anora’s eyes fluttered shut, placing her forehead onto the rim of the bottle. Both hands clasping the smooth glass. 

She just needed time away, not to see or talk to anyone. Not to see Elissa’s eyes and wish for another place or time. 

But the Queen’s quiet moment was broken by the sound of a male clearing his throat. 

Anora’s blonde head snapped up, eyes narrowing at the sight of her father standing in the doorway. 

“May I come in?”

Anora didn’t give him an answer, preferring to instead, take another swig. Loghain took that as a no, but walked into the room anyways. 

“Anora,..”

“Do not  _ Anora _ me,  _ Father _ . Or have you finally remembered that I am your daughter? Now that it’s convenient for you.”” 

“I explained what happened. That I did it for yo…”

“You did because you had to be that Hero that you were before!” Anora screamed, bouncing up from her seat. The chair going flying back as the Queen’s hands gripped the edge of the desk. Blue eyes burning with a certain anger that many had never seen in the Ice Queen. 

Loghain stepped back, as if surprised by Anora’s response. 

“I should’ve  _ took your head _ .” Anora hissed out from in between gritted teeth. 

“I did it for the Kingd…”

“You could’ve stopped but you kept on going.” Anora moved from behind the desk, stalking closer to Loghain. 

“It wasn’t  _ me! _ ”

“At any point you could’ve stopped it. You knew about what Howe planned to do since the start. You knew what he was going to do to the Couslands. But you were so  _ blinded _ . Blinded into thinking you were saving the Kingdom from the tyranny of the Orlesians.” 

“You were there, Anora! You are not so clean of this. You hold blame for what happened!” 

“And yet you have the  _ gall _ to stand here in front of me. To try to  _ reason _ behind so many excuses why you butchered  _ thousands _ of men, women and children.” Anor spoke over her Father, coming closer and closer to Loghain. 

“I didn’t mean for anything of this to happen.” Loghain’s voice cracked, attempting to hold back the tears from showing in his eyes. 

“No one ever does.” 

“You’re here to feel something that you’re not. The fucking Hero of the River Dane. That man that won the Rebellion. You can’t face that he _died_ _decades ago_. You can’t accept what you did here.”

Loghain didn’t have an answer for that. Anora came to stand mere inches away from him. Her blue eyes staring up into his. Flashes coming to his head of the piles of rotting corpses that he saw pulled from the Alienage. The looks on their faces when they were dragged to the ships through the darkness of night. 

For the Kingdom, it was for the Kingdom. 

“Do you feel like a hero again?”

* * *

 

It was the smell that Fergus noticed first. A wave of rotting flesh followed by the cries of crows circling ahead. 

The flumes of the dead hung like poison in the air with each step the lead column took closer to the source. 

Dismounting from his horse, Fergus drew closer to the smell. Just off the main road and into the thick green bush.    
  
Gilmore and Cedric were only a few steps behind the Teyrn, stopping dead in their tracks. The flumes of the dead hit them hard when Fergus bent down a weak tree branch that covered the way into a small clearing. 

“By the Maker…” Cedric mumbled at the sight. 

The cries of crows responded to Cedric. Resting and pecking into the piles of rotting tainted flesh. 

The shallow grave was overflowing with bodies. In various states of decomposing. Some looking as if they had been added in recently while the older ones had to been there for weeks. Their flesh beaten apart by the murder of crows. 

Gilmore moved to step forward, pass Fergus to take a closer look, but was stopped when the Teyrn’s hand threw out to grasp the man’s shoulder, “Stop. They’re tainted. Look at the fresh ones. Their eyes and skin.”

Gilmore stopped in his step, eyes scanning over the bodies near the top of the pile. Their lips black and purple, skin turning to an ugly yellow, large black circles carved underneath their eyes. 

“Fire. We have to burn the bodies. Or it’ll spread from the crows and rats looking for their feast.” 

It didn’t take long for the pile to start burning. Fergus stood watching the plumes of black smoke filling the sky. The crows circling overhead, shrieking and crying at the lost of their meal. 

“This far north? There’s been little reports of darkspawn in Highever.” Iona whispered to Fergus. 

“The taint can spread like any sickness. For fookin’ sake.” Gilmore whispered to himself, eyes latched onto the pile of burning bodies. 

“It’s a sign. First the taint starts spreading. Killing thousands, ruining wells. Then the Blight follows to burn what’s left.” Fergus tossed his torch into the burning pile, “This will not be our fates.”

* * *

 

Virgil’s Keep stood as one of the largest fortresses in all of Ferelden. It’s ancient roots dating back to the days of the Alamarri Avvars to stop the Tevinter advance inland. 

It could house a host of 5,000 comfortably for years during a siege. Holding up to an even higher number if the need came for it. 

Thick walls, layers of defence and back up against a mountain side, the only way to siege it was from the center. 

“It’s a beauty isn’t it?” Gilmore asked. Sitting ontop of his horse next to it.

“Father said sieging Virgil was one of the hardest fought battles of the war for him.” 

“Look at it. Not like the Knotwood keep. Some thin wood and stone wall around a tower. This, this a true keep.” 

Bann Warwick, Iona and Bann Reinhardt joined them. The five sitting upon their horses, staring up at the keep as the mass of the Highever army moved to make camp and begin what they hoped would be a short siege. 

“How long do you reckon before they offer terms?” Gilmore asked to Iona. 

“Now.”

“Bann Warwick, we have enough timber to make ladders and a ram. The outer walls are thick but…”

“Your Grace, I believe those are white banners on the walls.” Warwick motioned out to the movement happening on the outer wall of the keep. 

The five’s attention turned to Virgil. The Howe banners that flapped in the wind and hung over the edge of the wall were falling. Being replaced by bright white flags.    
  
Fergus ran his tongue along the top of his teeth. Fingers flexing through his leather gloves to tightly grip the reins of his horse, “I suppose I should be thankful that they’re not resisting.”

Warwick and Reinhardt shared a look but otherwise stayed silent. The Teryn kicked his heels into the side of his horse, “Iona, Gilmore, on me.”

With a collection of knights and Cedric, the trio made their way across the open field that separated the outer wall of the keep to where the Highever army was making camp. 

The gatehouse to Virgil eased open, a collection of riders bearing banners holding a white flag of surrender came riding out, making haste to the Teyrn. 

Fergus shifted in the saddle, standing up straighter as the riders approached. His hair was free to the air but his body was covered in a new set of steel armor, a Cousland blue sash running from shoulder to sword belt. 

The Teryn resisted a growl that threatened to escape. Riding in the center of the Howe party was one of the last people Fergus wanted to deal with. Delilah Howe. 

“Wonder if she’s still crazy for you.” Gilmore mumbled under his breath to Fergus. Causing a mix of a growl and a sigh to escape Fergus’s lips. 

Delilah had been blessed to not suffer from taking after her Father in terms of looks. With amber eyes, curly black hair, youthful face and a buxom body, she was a well sought out bride for noble Families. 

And one of the many nobles Fergus couldn’t stand. 

“ _ Fergus Cousland _ , by I take breath.” A low sultry voice broke through the silence that had fallen over the Highever party. 

Delilah sat on horseback tucked in between the large armored horses and remaining knights of House Howe. 

“Lady Delilah,” Fergus replied flatly, sending a glance in Iona’s way, “The only reason I am not burning your home and you is because of those white banners you threw up. Think very  _ carefully.”  _

Delilah didn’t seem put off by Fergus’s blunt and cold tone. Kicking her horse closer, the raven haired beauty left the protection of the knights, “ _ Fergus _ , you know me. You know what type of man Thomas was. I was  _ powe…” _

“You have surrendered, Delilah. That carries the burden of guilt.”

“And resisting would’ve proven it?”

Gilmore hid a laugh behind a quick series of coughs, attracting attention away from the two for a moment. 

“My terms as are follow; you and the banners that follow you will lay down your arms. Swear allegiance upon to me and House Cousland once more. Those among you who served Thomas with glee and carried out his orders will be shown the Queen’s justice. Those who haven’t will have a place in my army. Do you accept these terms, Lady Delilah Howe?” 

“Yes, yes I do. I and those who hide in Virgil's Keep are not your enemies, Fergus. We are the unfortunate bystanders in a larger play.” Delilah turned back to her armored guards and nodded. 

The knights drew their swords and tossed them to the ground beneath them.

* * *

 

“If you don’t want her, Fergus, you wouldn’t mind if I take her out for a ride would ya’?” Gilmore chuckled. 

Iona, Fergus and Gilmore were spread across the former Lord’s study. Iona emptying drawers and shelves are the hunt for information while Fergus studied a warmap. Gilmore sat behind the desk with his feet popped up. 

“It does sound like  _ quite _ the interesting history between you two.” The elf commented. 

Fergus sent a glance in Iona’s direction, trying to catch the elf’s eyes, but the blonde was buried in scrolls and letters. 

“It was before I met my wife. Delilah was a possible marriage option. Not one my Father truthfully wanted as a first choice but still an option. We had our  _ fun _ .”

“He means he fucked her rotten for about a year.”

“We were young.” Fergus hissed out from behind clenched teeth. 

“I am more interested why you didn’t bring up your shared past with her before? It could’ve been useful in getting rid of Thomas.” Iona finally looked up from her reading, blue eyes meeting Fergus’s. 

Fergus took a step forward but was reminded that Gilmore sat in the room watching the two with an amused look across his face. 

“It wasn’t important. She’s a Howe. She wouldn’t of helped us.” 

“Seems like she more than  _ eager _ to help you.” Gilmore commented. 

“ _ Ser Roland.” _

“She shouldn’t be taken lightly.” The elf’s voice caused the two men’s attention to snap to the blonde. 

Iona stood with a number of scrolls and reports tucked against her chest, blue eyes looking from Gilmore to Fergus, “She’s clever and pretty. For now, she’s playing for her survival. Looking for any weak link to latch onto to use to ensure she keeps her head.”

Iona turned her eyes onto Gilmore, “Meaning that she will  _ leap _ on the chance to bed Fergus’s right hand. Or even better, the Teyrn himself.”

“She’s wet and ready, not a mastermind.” Gilmore snorted, running a hand to comb through his beard. 

“I will exile her to the Free Marshes if it is proven she did not help her Family.”

Iona licked her lips, “She might be useful for us until then, Fergus. Information for those who eagerly helped the Howes. Those who have switched that still have the  _ wrong _ loyalty. We can’t be to careful.”

“A lady-in-waiting she said.” Gilmore laughed to himself, shaking his head. 

“It’s basic concept, Gilmore. Turn your enemies into friends.” 

“I will...speak to her after Amaranthine.”

“Oh aye, a good deal of speaking ,eh?”

* * *

 

The Arl’s tent fell silent. The various Houses of the Hinterlands standing in tense silence as they awaited for Eamon to enter. 

Tensions ran high in the cold afternoon air. Rumors flew back and forth during the entire march northwards. The southern Houses of the Hinterlands were the loudest, directly questioning why they were going the wrong way. Their lands and peoples had suffered the most during the Blight. 

The tent flaps opened, making way for Eamon, Teagan, Ser Perth and lastly Alistair. The now former Warden looking as if being dragged like a dog on a chain. 

The members of the room bowed their heads as Eamon made his way to the head of the table, taking a seat down with a heavy sigh, “Let us begin. Take a seat.”

Arl Wullf was the first to dare to break the tense air that hung over the tent, “What the fucking hell are we doing in Highever and not facing the Blight with the rest of the Kingdom?”

A number of Lords and Ladies nodded their head in agreement a series of “Ayes” followed. 

Eamon smiled at Wulff, raising his hand to call for silence, “We shall be joining them shortly. Many of you know the man that stands next to me, the former companion to Warden Elissa Cousland and the son of King Maric; Alistair Theirin.” 

The noticeable lack of bastard caught Alistair’s attention. Dragging his red rimmed eyes to the side of Eamon’s face. 

“The last true blood of the Theirin line. The ancient line of Kings will not die out with Cailan. Anora has shown her true colors, she had tricked the Warden to support her, spared her criminal of a father and favors Gwaren still. Leaving the rest of her vassals to stand by and watch!” 

There was a mumbling of agreement coming from the table. Otherwise the nobility glanced among each other, silence falling again. . 

“The southern half of the Hinterlands is in ruins, Eamon. And you want to further this Blight by attacking the other half of Ferelden?” Wulff’s voice cracked. The Arl’s large armored force dwarfed the others around him. Handles of his weapons peeking from either hip. 

“Anora’s allies are few and far in between…”

“Teyrn Fergus has near 10,000 men under his banners. Gwaren numbers the same. Do you think the Warden’s allies will stand by and allow you to burn the other half of Ferelden’s forces?” Wulff’s voice raised higher. 

“This is more than myself or any of us here. This is for the ideals that we fought for during the Rebellion. The Theirins have ruled us for centuries. Anora will undo centuries of Ferelden culture and ideals for her own gain. She has one goal in mind, and that is to be Empress! That is the only thing she had ever cared about.” Eamon bite back with venom, spit flying from his lips. 

“She will install a reign of terror as she has proven she is capable to do. She allowed Loghain to rule with terror and imprison all those who questioned her legitimacy. Do you think for a moment she will allow any to live who dare to question her rule? She aims to disband the Landsmeet! Take our voice and install absolute imperial rule!” Eamon came to stand, his voice booming in the small tight tent. 

His hand clasped to his wine glass, draining the glass and arching it out to his side, silently calling for a refill. 

A redheaded elf with her head down came from the shadows of the tent with a pitcher clasped in her hands. 

Wulff heaved down into his seat, shaking his head at Eamon’s speech and the majority of nobles nodding their heads in agreement. 

“Fergus Cousland can not be reasoned with. But those who follow him can. Meeting his army in the field will only spend more good Ferelden blood. I have had  _ enough _ of spilling our shared blood. Fergus and his inner circle must be removed, only then the rest of his army can be spared.”

“And how do you plan on doing that, Your Grace?” A voice asked from the table. 

“I have sent a raven to Fergus asking for a meeting near Amaranthine. I will take Ser Perth, Alistair and my good brother Teagan with me along a collection of trusted soldiers. If we strike fast enough, Fergus will be dead and the Highever Camp thrown into chaos. In that chaos we will take power. Half of his army is that of former Howe’s followers. I am sure they would be more than willing to switch sides.”

“This is madness.” Wulff grasped, his face scanning over the table.

“Do have some faith in me, Arl Wulff.” Eamon responded with a smile and a wink. Taking a long sip from his wine glass.

* * *

 

The boy rested his sweaty head against the wet cool stone of the castle’s wall. Even with the rainstorm thundering around them, he could still hear the beating of drums and blasting of horns. It was entrenched into his memory, into every sense. From smell, sight, touch, taste, hearing.

Curling his legs to his chest, he burrowed his face into the rough leather jerkins, trying to picture a different time and place. Before the darkspawn marched north, before this nightmare started. 

He wanted so badly to be a knight, to fight for Arl Bryland. He was raised on tales of Loghain Mac Tir and King Maric. Defeating legions of Chevaliers, earning his own Household.

Though the view of the city’s main courtyard was blocked, he knew what rested there. A series of images that had been burnt into his senses. The growing pile of dead that had to be burnt within the hour. The bodies of the darkspawn were usually thrown over the side of the far east wall but those who fell defending the City were at least given some level of last rite. 

It was the smell that he wasn’t prepared for. He had learned the difference of the smell of dead human and darkspawn. The rotting corpses of the darkspawn smelling much fouler than that of human. 

The city was namely a ghost town. Bryland had ordered the emptying of the city and  to flee north to the capitol. The ones that remained were those who knew what the chances of leaving alive were slim to none. For most of them, it was the only end that seemed  _ right _ after the months of fighting.

A new horn blow, not like the ones that haunted his thoughts. 

A voice yelled from over the battlement, “Open the gates! Open the gates!”

The boy scrambled up to his feet, peeking his mud covered face over the edge of the battlement. Columns of riders were coming from the main road south. He knew the banner, the banners of Dragon’s Peak. 

Bann Sighard rode at the head of the columns, armor covered in dirt and sprays of black blood. He trotted in a circle around the main entrance of South Reach, “Bryland! Bryland! We must flee!”

Arl Bryland still projected the strength and command of a man who was born to rule. A veteran of the Orlesian occupation, surviving the Battle of the White River, he was the reason South Reach and the South had survived for this long. 

Leonas marched across the courtyard, grabbing the reins of Sighard’s horse and steadying him, “What is it? What did you see?”

“The Blight! The Archdemon! They’re coming  _ in force _ .” 

“Where!”

“We lost them at what remains of Lothering. A few days from here if that. We must flee north.” 

“Raven. Send a raven to the Capital! Warn the Queen!” Leonas barked out to the rushing soldiers. 

Leonas helped Sighard dismount from his horse, “South Reach is nearly empty. We must hold it as long as possible to ensure the women and children can escape.”

“Leonas, I  _ saw it. _ Wings that cover the entire sky. Purple flames that turn into fields into ash. There’s thousands, hundreds of thousands.”

The Arl threw his arm around Sighard’s shoulders and pulled him tight to him. Sighard’s screaming was alerting the soldiers and knights that watched the two nobles carefully, “You need rest, Sighard.”

“Double the watch on the walls!” Leonas barked out to the courtyard, trying to keep Sighard from breaking free and going screaming through the city. 

The boy turned his attention away from the courtyard and back to the empty night. 

To only be met by the razor sharp claws of a shriek. Cleaving through his throat and twisting up, it tossed the body of the boy over it’s shoulder and climbed up onto the wall. 

“Shriek attack! Shriek attack!”

Leonas sighed into the night air and kept dragging Sighard away from the walls of South Reach. 

The sounds of battle and dying men graced Leonas near dawn when he returned to the front line. Over the year, South Reach had survived as a beacon of strength in the South. It was a fortress, able to push back the tide of the darkspawn attack after attack. 

Leonas fully expected the entire city had become the largest thorn in the Archdemon’s scales. A thought that pleased Leonas greatly. 

“Report Ser.” Leonas came to the commander of the main gates of South Reach. Leonas had stopped bothering to learn the names of the soldiers holding the front gate. Too many faces, too many new ones that came and went through the days and nights. 

“A few shriek attacks but that’s it, milord.”

“Good. The the last train should be leaving soon from the northern gates. After that we march north.” 

The commander gave a sharp bow and turned to start screaming orders. Leonas made his way to the top of the gatehouse. Two silent knights followed a few feet away from the Arl, being ontop of the walls were always a danger to wandering darkspawn hidden. 

The land around South Reach had long been cleared. In the low dawn light he could see the amount of holes that had been dug at the start to bury their dead, quickly realizing that burning was the only way to stop the tainted blood from infecting others. 

The once proud city of South Reach had been reduced to a ghost town. A tenseful silence gripped the morning’s air. There was no sound of birds, not even the sound of wind. It was as if silence hung over every last inch of the city where 20,000 people used to live in.  

He knew what was coming. What rested just beyond the ridge. He had saw glimpses of it at Ostagar before Loghain called the retreat. In the year of fighting it was the shadow that hung over him. 

A part of Leonas wished now he hadn’t lived to see this. That the flu last winter had taken his life. How could the world go back to normal after so much bad had happened? So much death. 

Sighard joined Leonas on the battlement, the panic that had swept him the previous night gone. Sighard grey hair was looking more and more white with each passing day. 

“When Loghain called the retreat, did you doubt the order?” Sighard asked to cut through the silence. 

Leonas blinked several times to bring his world back into focus, “For a moment. But I trusted Loghain more than I did Cailan. Loghain won the rebellion, he lead us through far worse than Ostagar.”

“Mhm, suppose he lost this one though.”

It earned a chuckle from Leonas, looking over towards his old comrade, “Some might say he still won. His daughter is solely on the throne and he’s alive.” 

“It’s funny, isn’t it. Down south here, it looks like the entire world is ending but in the capitol? It was nothing had changed.” Sighard said. 

“Besides Elissa Cousland being the hand that could’ve flipped the entire chessboard over and scattered all the pieces to the winds.”

“She did in some aspect. Named a Queen, a single ruling Queen.”

“The world’s changing and I wonder if I’ll see what it becomes.”

The aged men attention turned back to the quiet dawn breaking over the skies. Leonas sighed and took one last glance, stepping off to the side. 

He was stopped by Sighard’s hand dropping to his shoulder, “By the fucking Maker…”

The first rays of the day’s sun was now blinded. A massive black shape flying over the horizon and in the direction of the wall. 

The beast was massive, a mighty roar coming from the beast’s jaw and breaking the tense silence. 

The Archdemon, and the Blight, had arrived. 

“Brace!” Leonas was able to get out before the Archdemon made the first pass over the city. 

A wave of purple corrupted flames blew from it’s chest, lighting the tops of the tallest towers of South Reach. Burning through stone and sending debris falling onto unsuspecting soldiers. 

A shriek broke itself from the Archdemon, causing Leonas and Sighard to scream in pain, trying to cover their ears. 

Using the battlement for support, Leonas inched his back up to take a peek out over to see a mass of blackness approaching the walls of the City. 

“ _ Hundreds of thousands.”  _

“Flee! Flee! To the Northern gate!” Leonas screamed, grabbing the back of Sighard’s collar and hauling him down the stairs. 

 


End file.
